Slow Burn
by fennecfawkes
Summary: Eventual Shawn/Cory. Post-high school AU. Everyone takes a while to figure out their feelings. Post playground, begins before "Needs." I painfully obviously do not own these characters.
1. The Turner Method

Shawn Hunter hadn't actually witnessed the event, but he got a first person account from Cory Matthews after the fact. Cory, his best friend, had broken up with Topanga Lawrence, his first and only girlfriend. They'd been together something like, oh, Shawn couldn't even remember when Topanga had first diverted Cory's attention. Well, ultimately, it was his fault the two of them had gotten together in the eighth grade. But middle school relationships weren't supposed to actually _last_. Hell, neither were high school relationships. But Cory and Topanga just kept on trucking. That is, until two weeks before Topanga planned to move into an apartment a couple blocks from NYU, and one week and four days before Cory and Shawn would relocate to their dorm room at Penn State. On that day, Topanga told Cory she couldn't bear the thought of a long distance relationship, so over a cup of coffee at an anonymous Starbucks in downtown Philadelphia, a romance for the ages drew to a close.

Shawn wasn't as disappointed as he was supposed to be. As much as he liked Topanga—loved her, even—he'd always felt that she was, in some sense, holding Cory back. His interests were hers, and vice versa. Even though Cory and Shawn were still together as much as possible, it had become harder and harder to get Cory alone, especially after that time in the playground that Shawn promised himself long ago that he'd forget. He hadn't. He'd almost taken Cory's virginity that night, and that wasn't something he could easily scrub from his mind.

He feigned sorrow for Cory's sake and let his best friend literally cry on his shoulder for an evening or two before convincing him to drink a few beers and watch _M*A*S*H*_ till the hurting went away. It was what he'd always seen Jonathan Turner, his former teacher and roommate, do when he went through a bad breakup, and it seemed to work nearly as well for Cory. Soon enough, Cory was leaning against Shawn, half smiling and dead asleep, and Shawn was ignoring the call that he was sure was from Angela.

It wasn't that he didn't still love Angela. Of course he did. She was a wonderful girl, funny and smart and gorgeous. But sometimes, Shawn wondered if he'd be better off without a girlfriend when he started school. He'd always thought of his relationship with Angela as kind of a slow burn, hot while it lasted, but bound to fade. She was going to U Penn, so their relationship could conceivably continue, and they hadn't talked about the alternative—at least, not explicitly. But Shawn missed the rush of being single, especially now that Cory was single, too.

He didn't want to date Cory or anything. That'd just be weird. They were Cor and Shawnie, best friends, nothing less and certainly nothing more. And it would be good for the two of them to go out together and meet people. Girls, specifically, unless Cory had been so swayed by Shawn's charms that he'd joined the other team. Shawn smirked at the thought as the phone rang a third time. Rolling his eyes, he gently pushed Cory toward the other side of the couch and answered.

"Hey," he said softly.

"How'd you know it was me?" Angela asked.

"Well, it's my apartment, you know Jack and Eric are gone, and it's after midnight," said Shawn. "What's up?"

"Oh, I was just wondering how Cory's doing."

Shawn looked at Cory, who'd curled up in the fetal position. He was drooling slightly. Shawn smiled. "Good. Sleeping. Passed out while we were watching TV."

"Is he OK?"

"Yeah, I think he will be. How's Topanga?"

Angela snorted. "Don't tell Cory, but it's looking like she'll be onto the next guy real soon."

"Oh. Well, that's kind of shitty of her."

"She was restless, Shawn."

"Yeah, but there's a grace period, you know?"

"There's never been for you," Angela pointed out.

"Well, two weeks is a lot different from five years," said Shawn. He felt himself stiffening, irritated at how wrong Angela was. Topanga was at fault here. That was obvious. Wasn't it?

Angela sighed. "Even so, it was time for them to break up. That just ... happens to certain couples, you know?"

Silence. Shawn chewed a piece of his too long hair.

"Shawn?"

"Yeah, I should go. Cor's drooling all over one of Jack's pillows, and you know how pissed he gets over stupid stuff."

"Right. I love you."

"Love you too," said Shawn, dropping the phone back onto the receiver. Cory lifted his head, bleary eyed.

"Were you talking to someone?"

"Yeah. Angela," said Shawn. "Did you want a blanket or something?"

"Oh, I should go home," Cory said, stumbling back downward as he tried to stand up.

"Yeah, you're not driving, buddy." Shawn went to the closet and brought back some blankets and a proper pillow. "You should probably give me the one you were sleeping on. Jack isn't crazy about your saliva."

"What do you know about what Jack thinks about my saliva?"

"I don't think Jack's ever thought of anyone's saliva as a good thing."

"That's fair." Cory accepted the pillow. Shawn unthinkingly tucked him under the cover of the blankets. "Thanks, Mom."

"Anytime, sweetheart," said Shawn. "I think I'm going to go to bed, too."

"Shawnie?" Cory's voice was small.

"Yeah, Cor?"

"Could you sleep out here?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure. I'll just—"

"I mean with me. It doesn't have to be weird or anything," Cory said, sounding rushed. "I mean, it's a big couch, or you can just forget it and sleep in your bed and pretend I never—"

Shawn shook his head and nudged Cory aside, lying down next to him. "Just don't ask me to be the little spoon, OK?"

"Thanks, buddy," said Cory, leaning his head against the back of Shawn's shoulder and quickly, quietly drifting off to sleep. Shawn sighed and tried not to think about how nice it felt, sleeping side by side with someone he actually still cared about.


	2. The Metaphor at Work

Time passed quicker in college. Shawn was sure of it. He pinned it on a number of factors. First, the workload. 16 credits, it turned out, was a bitch. Now that he was studying something he actually cared about—English, that is—he wanted to do well in the hopes that he may be a successful adult someday, with a job and a place to live and a family or something of that nature. So he did homework, which felt foreign, and he studied for tests, which felt ... beyond foreign. Alien, maybe? Fortunately, Cory was right there with him. Only their gen ed courses overlapped, and that was probably for the better; the less they had to talk about, the easier it was to study.

Second, the lack of girlfriend. It was December, and he and Angela had been officially broken up for two months. Something had always felt odd, pacing-wise, when he'd been a boyfriend. Life was ... slower. Dates on Fridays, double dates on Saturdays, lounging on the couch in a date-like manner on Sundays, and that was how it went every week, no matter how bored he got. Angela was feisty and all, but she seemed more than satisfied with the routine, so grateful when Shawn suggested they stay in and watch a movie. It got old for him. But being single? That could never possible get old, not even close. He could flirt with girls now. He could kiss more than one person. He could take one home if he really wanted to. Not that he had yet. Cory was there, going out with him, picking out girls for him, heading back to the dorm with him. And that felt like enough, though Shawn didn't care to admit to himself why.

And third ... Well, there really wasn't a third, come to think of it. Lots of school and lots of nights out, that was all he needed to keep him going fast. And all he needed to distract him from the way things ended with Angela, which was good, because he'd have nothing but self-loathing if he stopped and thought about it.

It was a Wednesday night, and she'd stopped by for a surprise visit. In Shawn's defense, it really wasn't a good time. He had a midterm the next morning, and so did Cory, so both of them were legitimately busy, studying and quizzing each other whenever they got burned out on reading the same five sentences over and over. Eventually, after about seven minutes of Angela twiddling her thumbs and Shawn tapping his pencil, unable to concentrate, he told her he could spare half an hour for coffee.

"Shawn, there was something I wanted to ask you," Angela said seriously. They were sitting opposite each other in a darkened corner of a coffeehouse Shawn had been to once or twice. Shawn braced for the impact he was certain was coming.

"What am I to you?"

Shawn hesitated. He knew what he was supposed to say, what Angela wanted to hear and maybe even believe. "You're my girlfriend. You're beautiful and you're funny and you're brilliant and I love you."

"Do you?" Angela looked Shawn in the eye. He did his best not to look down and nodded.

"But are you _in _love with me?"

"What's the difference?" Shawn tried not to sound agitated, but he was, and he knew full well there was a difference, but playing dumb could sometimes be an asset of his.

"Do you even care about our relationship anymore?" Angela raked a hand through her hair, looking frustrated. "I mean, it seems to me like you've just given up. Like this has been over for you for a long time."

"Angela, that's not true," said Shawn, hoping he sounded more sincere than he felt. "We're still together. I mean, yeah, I'm really busy now, and we can't see each other as much anymore, but that's OK, right? Of course things are going to change. We're in college now. Things are different."

"You really expect me to believe you still care and you being distant is just because you're 'really busy?'" Angela asked, making quote marks with her index and middle fingers. "There's more, Shawn. I know you. I can tell. I need to know right now. Is there someone else?"

"What? No!"

"Then what is it?"

Shawn sighed. "See this candle?" He gestured at the single votive burning in front of them. "That's our relationship. That's a slow burn. It was hot once, right? And we were really, really invested in being in love or whatever it is you invest yourself in when you're in a high school relationship. Now, though, it's just there. It's stagnant. It's not going anywhere, but it's getting there, as slowly as it possibly can."

Angela shook her head. "You're such an English major."

"You know what I mean, though, right?"

"Well, I've noticed you drifting. And I guess..." She sighed. "I guess I don't care as much anymore, either. I still care about you, Shawn. I just don't think either of us cares enough."

Shawn knew what he was supposed to do—beg her to stay, convince her he'd change, re-light another candle, something like that. But instead, all he did was nod and stand up and pull out Angela's chair and have her drive him back to campus. They didn't talk on the way. Shawn felt incapable of saying anything that wasn't completely ... wrong? Stupid? Cruel? He had no more words to offer Angela. He'd used them up on the fucking candle analogy.

Shawn kissed her on the cheek when he got out of the car and said he'd see her later. By December 9, the day before finals week began, later hadn't happened. After he'd gotten back from the coffeehouse, Shawn told Cory he'd broken up with Angela. Immediately, Cory closed his books, rooted through their box of DVDs till he found _M*A*S*H*_, and took a couple beers out of the mini-fridge. Shawn stepped across the room and hugged Cory, who held him until the home menu appeared on the TV screen.

They never talked about Angela again.


	3. The Undiscovered Country

"Griff Hawkins? Seriously?"

"Yes. Griff Hawkins." Shawn grinned and took a sip of his cappuccino. It wasn't so bad, really, the coffeehouse where he'd broken up with Angela. He and Cory ended up there every once in a while, usually after a particularly rough study session. This time, though, it was just a Friday night, one they'd decided they'd spend together, just the two of them. "Griffin now, actually. And you know what? He's not a bad writer."

"How can you tell? You've only had class together for two days."

"Well, this class is ... different," said Shawn. Creative writing was the first class he was taking as part of his English major. "Like, we all had to write something Wednesday, kind of an introduction of ourselves to the class, but in any form we wanted, list, paragraph, whatever. And today, we sat in a circle like we were in elementary school and read out loud to each other."

"Sounds kind of scary," Cory said.

"It was, a little. But once people got going, it wasn't too bad. How was your seminar?"

"Aw, Shawnie, you remembered!" Cory put his hand over his heart and Shawn kicked him under the table. "It was fine. Kind of ... seminar-y. You know. Dull. But I like it enough."

"I'd hope so, in that you'll be studying it for the next three and a half years." Cory had settled on his major—law and society—and was currently undertaking his first year seminar. Shawn had gotten his out of the way first semester, as he'd already known what he'd be studying something like eight years ago, but Cory remained undecided till he watched an episode of _Law and Order: Criminal Intent_ with Shawn on a Thursday afternoon in November.

"Who's that girl in the corner?" he'd asked.

"The one behind Vincent D'Onofrio?"

"Yeah. With the blonde hair."

"I don't know," said Shawn. "She's just a background character. She's on a lot but she doesn't get many lines. She's probably a paralegal or something."

"So she's in the law office, but she doesn't actually have to practice law?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." Cory's brow furrowed. "That seems nice."

"Are you even paying attention to the case, Cor?"

"What do you think you have to study to be a paralegal?"

And so, Cory's career aspirations were born. Ridiculous as their origins were, Shawn thought Cory might actually be pretty good in a position like that, sitting at a desk and going over administrative files, filling in the blanks of cases long forgotten or pushed aside. Cory didn't always act like it, but he was fastidious when it came to things he cared about, and Shawn assumed a job might be one of those.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell me more about Griff. Sorry, Griffin. What did he write about?"

"Actually, Griffin wrote about his cat."

Cory laughed. "His cat?"

"Yeah, it was kind of tragic, actually," said Shawn. "Like, how his cat was the only one who'd never really given up on him. He's had friends but they've never felt real, he's not very close to his family—but Oberon still loves him."

"Oberon?"

"It's the name of the king in _A Midsummer Night's Dream_."

"Oh. Well. That is kind of sad. But good for him, opening up and all that."

"I hope it was good for him."

"Aw, look at you, caring about Griffin," said Cory. "You guys gonna be writing partners? Run scenes by each other before putting them in your final papers?"

"Sounds like someone's jealous," Shawn said teasingly, giving Cory another kick.

"Hey, I know people, too. I told you Minkus is in my calc class, right?"

"Minkus? Stuart Minkus lowered himself to the level of state schooling?"

"Yeah, I overheard him telling someone his scholarship to Vassar had fallen through at the last minute and he _had _to go here."

"Aw, Minkus. He's come a long way."

"Sure has." Cory took a last loud slurp of his hot chocolate. "You ready to go? I think I finally had you convinced to watch a _Star Trek _movie."

"You did? When did that happen?"

"I think it was around 2 this morning. I asked you if you wanted to watch _Star Trek 6_, and you said something like 'Mufflefuff,' which I take to mean, 'Of course, Cory, there's nothing I'd enjoy more.'"

"You're seriously going to make me watch a Star Trek movie," Shawn said flatly.

"Not just any _Star Trek _movie, Shawn, the best _Star Trek _movie!"

Shawn sighed. "So I guess there's no chance of getting you to go to the indie theatre across the street to see _24 Hour Party People_."

"Nope," said Cory.

"Will you at least have Eric bring us some beer or something?"

"I can do that, yes."

As it turned out, _Star Trek: The Undiscovered Country_ wasn't that bad. In fact, under the influence of four sixths of a pack of Amstel Light, it was actually pretty good. Shawn could've done without about 20 minutes of exposition near the end, but other than that, he couldn't complain. And even if he tried, Cory would just shout him down and start quoting Chekov again, and Shawn wasn't certain he could handle that.

"I told you it was a good show," said Cory, such a lightweight that two beers did the same to him as four did to Shawn. "I told you!"

"Hey, this was a movie, not two episodes smooshed together," said Shawn, thinking to himself that that was a fairly strong argument.

"Well. It was still part of the franchise. And the franchise is good. And now you have to admit that." Cory poked him in the chest for effect or impact or some reason or another. Shawn wasn't sure. All he could feel was that Cory was touching him, however nonsexual the move might have been.

"Hey, Cor?"

"Yeah, Shawnie?"

"You ever miss Topanga?"

Cory didn't ask where the line of questioning came from. He cocked his head and looked as though he might be deep in thought for about six seconds before saying, "No. No, I really don't. I thought I would. I thought it would hurt when I found out that she was, you know, having sex with other guys or whatever. But it doesn't. And I don't know why. But I'm happy." Cory looked forlornly at the empty six pack on the floor. "And we're out of beer."

"There's some rum in the crisper, I think." The Penn State drinking policy was by no means strict, but Shawn and Cory enjoyed feeling secretive about something. "And we have Coke, so, there's that."

Cory nodded and made two drinks, not speaking till he handed one to Shawn and sat down next to him on the couch again. "What about you? You ever think about Angela?"

"Sometimes. Not a lot, but sometimes. Like in class today, when I was reading stuff out loud, I thought of how I never wanted to show anyone what I wrote, not even Angela." He paused. "So I guess they aren't really happy thoughts. I don't know. I'm just really glad we broke up when we did, because ... there was nothing more happening there, you know?"

"Oh, I know. You'd checked out months before you actually broke up," said Cory, almost jovially.

"What?" Shawn laughed. "You're not serious."

"Oh, totally. You didn't want Angela anymore and you know it."

"What did I want, then?" Shawn didn't mean for it to sound flirtatious. Really, he didn't. But even with that slight rushing sound in his ears that happened every time he drank, he could hear something less than pure in what he'd just said.

"I don't know, Shawnie," Cory said softly. "I really don't." Cory drained his drink, much faster than usual, and leaned against Shawn, dropping his head on the other boy's shoulder. At once, Shawn felt clumsy and stiff and confused about what to do with his body. Why was this so much harder with a boy than with a girl? OK, more to the point, why was this so hard with Cory? He and Cory always touched each other. They were cuddlier than most couples. Weren't they? So why didn't Shawn know where to put his hands or his arms or anything else dangling from this stupid lanky body of his?

At a loss, Shawn dropped his head against Cory's and put an arm around him, his best friend, the person he absolutely wasn't attracted to as anything more than ... oh, fuck it. So he had a crush on Cory. Whatever. Shawn was good at forgetting that kind of thing. He could be over it as soon as he admitted it. Cory repositioned himself, his head falling against Shawn's chest, right next to his heart. If that wasn't the most cliché circumstance possible ... Shawn sighed, hopefully not too loudly, and massaged Cory's shoulder lightly, keeping his other hand to himself and leaning his head back against the couch, closing his eyes, wondering if it was about that time.

"Cory, we should sleep."

"I'm trying to."

"Cory, we should sleep in our beds."

"But they're all the way over there!"

"Cor—"

"Come on, Shawnie. Just grab the blanket. I won't judge you for finding me irresistible."

Shawn rolled his eyes and honored Cory's request. Even if he did have a crush on him, that didn't make him any less obnoxious.

When Shawn reached consciousness 13 hours later, his legs took a few extra seconds to catch up with him, and it was easy to see why; Cory, still sleeping, was stretched out on top of them. Wondering when they'd shifted positions so radically during the night, Shawn put his hand on Cory's shoulder, now somewhat painfully poking into Shawn's abdomen, and shook it.

"Hey, what? It's Saturday. You don't need to wake me up."

"You're on top of me," Shawn pointed out dryly.

"Oh. So I am." Cory stood and let Shawn off the couch. "How'd you sleep, dear?"

"Ha, ha." Shawn didn't have pants on. Why didn't he have pants on?

"Why don't you have pants on?" Cory asked as he slunk back down onto the couch.

"I must've taken them off in my sleep. I always sleep in boxers."

"I know. We live together. And we've been best friends for more than 10 years. So I do, in fact, know what you wear when you sleep." Cory stretched. "The real question is, why was I on top of you?"

"Some questions are best left unasked, Cor," said Shawn. "I think I'm going to shower."

Cory gave him some kind of half-salute and laid his head back down. His eyes slid shut, and Shawn stood looking at him, unable to do anything but shake his head as he turned and went into the bathroom they shared with their suitemates. Closing the door, he looked in the mirror. Same guy, same hair, same eyes, same permanently apathetic expression, same goofy gap between two of his bottom teeth. So why, after one night of innocently sleeping alongside—or, OK, under—his best friend, did he feel so different?


	4. The Second Contact

Summer was a nice pick me up, but it didn't last long. It felt like a matter of hours before Shawn and Cory were back in their same dorm, with the same suitemates and much of the same stuff crowding their already cramped space. There was more now, though, thanks to Shawn's course load. Besides general education classics, he had a lot of literature to plow through the first semester of his sophomore year, something he looked forward to, but not in a social sense.

He and Cory had begun spending more time with Griffin than they ever could've imagined. Griffin and his roommate, the extremely Cory-like Cody, now frequented the coffeehouse with them, in addition to studying alongside the two of them, and Shawn and Griffin actually called each other writing partners now. Before Cody entered the picture, Cory seemed fairly envious of Shawn's newfound friendship. But once that there was an accounting major with a fondness for bad sci-fi and Brillo pad hair, everything seemed to fall into place rather neatly.

It was the third week of the semester when Cory announced he'd met a couple girls in one of his classes and they were interested in hanging out with him and Shawn.

"Don't think of it as a double date," he said.

"But it is a double date."

"Yeah, but don't take it seriously. These girls, they're not the brightest. But really, they're both so sweet. Cute, too. And how long's it been since we've been on a date?"

"A long, long time," said Shawn. And that didn't disappoint him. Sure, it was the longest he'd gone without sex since high school, but, while he may not admit it out loud, he highly preferred Cory's companionship and his newer friendships to meaningless lays and the two week rule. Of course, it helped that he'd acknowledged to himself he cared about Cory in a deeper way. And even if he didn't pursue it, which he didn't intend to, that was there, at the back of his mind, stopping him from anything too serious.

As Cory had said, the girls weren't so bright, but it was nice to get out with Jessica and Jessica—_Really?, _Shawn had thought—for a bit. Unfortunately, his Jessica turned out to be quite aggressive, and as nice as it was to make out, it was a little less comfortable to do so in the backseat of Cory's car on the way back to campus. Shawn didn't give Jessica his number or ask for hers. He hoped she understood.

"That was fun, right?" Cory asked when they arrived back in their room.

"Sure," said Shawn. "Won't be seeing her again, I don't think."

"Oh, thank God. It was good and all, being out with a girl, but ... she's not really my type."

"Do you have one?"

Cory shrugged. "I don't really know. To tell you the truth, I haven't been interested in any girls in a long time."

"Neither have I," said Shawn, glad that 'girls' had been clarified so he wasn't lying.

"Well, hey, you could always date Griffin."

"What?"

"Oh, come on, Shawnie, like you haven't noticed," said Cory.

"What are you talking about?"

"Griffin has a thing for you. It's kind of adorable, actually, in a pathetic sort of way."

"You think Griffin likes me?"

"I don't _think _he does, I _know_ he does," said Cory, sounding slightly exasperated. "He asked me if you were single, looking, or gay."

"But I'm not—I don't—"

"I know. And he does now, too. But you can't blame the guy for trying, right?" Cory smiled crookedly. "You're pretty dreamy."

Shawn fought off a blush. "I didn't know I had dude appeal."

"Well, you learn something new every day."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Shawn's mind reeling over this new revelation, and Cory thinking about God knows what, till Cory spoke up. "So, I think I heard you say you wanted to watch one of the newer _Star Trek _movies?"

"I think you absolutely didn't hear me say that," said Shawn. "But maybe if you got me a couple drinks first..."

"How about a double shot, and we start now? Or we could do a shot. I got some vodka for screwdrivers."

"How do you get all this?"

"Eric," said Cory, "is a surprisingly benevolent brother."

Cory's pick was _First Contact_, a movie Shawn found surprisingly affecting. He didn't let Cory see him tear up on the end and blamed the alcohol, of which he had plenty. At least, he didn't think he'd let Cory see him tear up.

"Quite the strong reaction there, Shawnie. Didn't realize you were such a big softie," said Cory, taking a sip of hard cider, his go-to drink.

"Well, it was emotional," Shawn said. "As indicated by the film's title."

"Oh, now it's a film." Cory took another drink, much longer this time. "Was there anything you didn't like about it?"

"Lily," said Shawn. "Didn't like Lily."

"How could you not like Lily?" Cory asked, sounding scandalized. "She's so feisty! And smart!"

"She was a bitch."

Cory shook his head. "If only you'd ever seen Picard's other love interests. Then Lily would seem perfect."

"I think it's arguable that she was a love interest," said Shawn, baffled at how he'd ever entered into this discussion.

"Well, love is tricky, isn't it?" Cory chose this moment to drop his head on Shawn's shoulder, something that seemed to be happening more and more lately. Shawn tried to ignore that swimming feeling in his stomach that always followed some kind of affection from Cory.

"Hey, Shawnie?" Cory's voice was small as he put a hand on Shawn's leg. Shawn stiffened and tried to figure out what he was supposed to do with his own body, with Cory so close and so ... intimate.

"Yeah, Cor?"

"You ever think about the dance? After the dance? When we were 17?"

Shawn felt as though he'd developed a fever over the course of about five seconds. "Yeah," he croaked. "Yeah, I do."

"You just want to keep ignoring it for a while? I mean, it was amazing," said Cory. "Really, really amazing. And I really thought something was going to ... happen for me that night."

The blood drained from Shawn's face. He could feel it. He probably looked as though he was on the brink of death, but Cory wasn't looking at him, still staring fixedly ahead.

"Yeah, I thought so, too." Shawn cleared his throat. "But maybe we should forget about it. I mean ... well, we're best friends."

"Yeah."

"And that's not really what we do." He laughed nervously.

"So we're going to keep on pretending that it's only a coincidence, us not having dated anyone since we got to college?" Cory looked at him. Now, Shawn felt a blush rise to his cheeks, soon covering his face, and he knew it had nothing to with alcohol. "Yeah. I guess we are."

"Maybe someday." Shawn's heart, cliché as it sounded, leapt.

"Maybe."

Cory was asleep within moments. Shawn rearranged Cory and himself so they were side by side, like the night he'd employed the Turner method. And despite his racing thoughts and impossibly fast heart rate, he fell asleep, too.

In the morning, Shawn said to Cory, "Hey, how much do you remember from last night?"

"Not a lot," said Cory, and despite knowing his best friend better than anyone else in the world, Shawn couldn't determine if Cory was telling the truth. "Why? Did I say something embarrassing?" He laughed.

"Nothing too bad," Shawn said, and to his own surprise, he wasn't disappointed. It was better that Cory didn't know, and it was better if Shawn could ignore it, just a little longer. He knew this much was true now: Cory had felt something. Cory had wanted him. And Cory, somewhere deep in the recesses of that strange little mind of his, still did. No matter how many times Jessica batted her eyelashes at him when he walked Cory to class or how many sidelong glances he got from Griffin—how he hadn't noticed before was beyond him—Shawn could hold onto that, and that was all that seemed to matter.

**A/N: Hopefully the **_**Star Trek **_**references aren't too alienating. I thought it might be fun to give Cory a mild **_**Trek**_** obsession, and it seems to fit with this version of his character pretty well. If you need an explanation at any point, just private message me. (smile)**


	5. The Obvious

Shawn had been going out of his way not to spend time alone with Griffin. He really had. But he knew the guy would catch him eventually, no matter how long it took. And it did take a while. Sophomore year was, in fact, almost over when Griffin approached him.

It was a Thursday afternoon. Cory was scheduled to hang out with his little sister on his parents' request and Griffin called, wondering if Shawn would like to watch the Thursday night comedy block on NBC with him. As much as Shawn wanted to say no, he thought that maybe they could square things away, so he said sure, he'd be over in 15 minutes. And square things away they did, though not without struggle.

Cody and Griffin lived a couple blocks away from campus in an apartment slightly less crappy than a dorm room. The only advantage Shawn saw was the lack of restriction on alcohol, but Penn State's policy regarding drinking was laughable, so this didn't seem too advantageous at all, but Shawn didn't mention that.

"Where's Cody?" Shawn asked as he settled onto a remarkably ugly plaid couch.

Griffin shrugged and brought in a couple beers. "He hangs out with other people on occasion. What's Cory up to?"

"Oh, he's hanging out with his younger sister," said Shawn. "She's in high school, and she's kind of gone off the rails, so Cory's mom and dad asked him to hang out with her once in a while."

"That's nice of Cory."

"Yeah, he's a good guy."

"You've always thought so, haven't you?" Griffin studied Shawn, who could practically feel the other boy's eyes boring into him. It made him uncomfortable, and if someone wasn't an inebriated and/or affectionate Cory, that wasn't the easiest thing to do.

"Yeah. We've been best friends since we were 6," said Shawn.

"But just friends, right?"

Shawn forced out a laugh. "Yeah. Of course. What else would we be?"

Griffin shrugged. "I don't know. Sometimes seems like you two are closer than that."

"That's how best friends are, I guess."

"I guess." Griffin cocked his head and not so casually slid his arm across the back of the couch behind Shawn. "So you're not seeing anyone, then?"

_Oh, shit_, thought Shawn. _Here it comes. Deep breaths._ "Nope. Not right now."

"Do you _want _to be seeing someone?"

"Well..." _Think, man, think!_ "I'm really liking being single. I mean, I was always with someone in high school, and then Angela for so long. It's kind of nice, taking a break."

"But it's been a long break, hasn't it? You have to miss dating at least a little."

"I guess. Sometimes. But there's so much else to do right now, you know?" Shawn asked lamely. "Exams soon and all. It's a busy time."

"It doesn't have to be so busy," said Griffin, his voice hovering on the edge of husky. "You could take a break once in a while." He put a hand over Shawn's and leaned toward him. Shawn leaned as far away as he could. Griffin, mouth partially open, looked confused. He leaned back and closed his mouth.

"Well, _that _was forward," said Shawn. "Look, Griffin. You're a really great guy, and I'm so glad I've gotten to know you, but ... I'm not gay. And I don't see that changing anytime soon."

"Except for Cory."

"What?"

"Oh, come on, Shawn. I've seen the way you look at him, the way you react every time he touches you. It's so obvious. You're in love with him. You have been since you were kids."

"That's not true," said Shawn, feeling himself go pale.

"I'm not offended or anything," Griffin said. "I want to be your friend if that's all I can have. But can you at least give me the courtesy of telling me the truth? Because, Shawn, if we're going to keep being friends, I don't want you to lie to me. Not now. Not ever."

Shawn sighed heavily, a feeling of relief increasing with every word he said. He told Griffin everything—the playground, the denial, the breakups, the crush, the nights on the couch, even the drunken revelations of the previous semester. Griffin listened and nodded at the appropriate moments and cringed when Shawn explained that Cory didn't remember.

"But now you know he feels the same way," said Griffin. This time, when he put his hand on Shawn's, it felt like comfort, not a come on. "At least you have that."

"Yeah. That's what I thought. Think."

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but if it's meant to happen, it's going to, no matter how long he keeps denying it. You know Cory. He's probably terrified."

"Probably. Fuck, Griffin. You know how to read people, don't you?"

Griffin smiled and nodded. "It's why I was such an incredible bully. It's easier to pick people off when you see their weaknesses from a mile away."

"Well, in that case, I'm glad you're using your powers for good now instead of evil," Shawn said mock seriously.

"Me too."

Nothing felt strange after that. Cody came home, and the three of them watched TV and had a few beers till Shawn had Cory pick him up. Cory asked how it went, and Shawn told the truth.

"He came onto me, and we had a nice little chat about my lack of interest. He's a really good guy, isn't he?"

Cory pouted. "You're not looking for a replacement best friend, are you?"

"Never," said Shawn, hooking an arm around Cory's neck. Cory looked away from the road to grin at Shawn, and for once, Shawn didn't beat himself up for the normal swimming feeling.

To say exams went off without a hitch would be something of a gross exaggeration, as both Shawn and Cory stayed up till 4 studying five nights in a row. When they were able to access their grades, though, it was confirmed that this had actually been a good idea, as they'd done no worse than B minuses in their very worst classes. This was cause for celebration with Jack, Eric, and even Angela and Topanga. Also in attendance was Rachel, who both Shawn and Cory had met a few times, but never really gotten to know. She was Jack and Eric's roommate, tall and red-haired and stunning, but Shawn hardly noticed—which was probably a good thing, considering the obvious intensity of both Jack's and Eric's crushes on her.

"So, Europe, huh?" Shawn said to Angela. She'd just told him she was leaving U Penn to escape her typical routine for a while.

She nodded and smiled. "I've found a whole bunch of hostels I can bounce around. I'm thinking I'll start with Portugal and work my way up."

"You're not skipping the UK, are you?" British literature was a newfound obsession of Shawn's.

"Of course not. I couldn't do that to you or me." Angela laid a hand on his arm, and Shawn couldn't believe how natural it felt, talking to her like a friend. At once, he regretted never having caught back up with her after the breakup. They could've been close in a completely different way. But what was done was done, and he'd do his best not to carry along any guilt from this.

As much as he was chatting with Angela was about as much as Cory was ignoring Topanga, which Shawn could understand. From what Shawn could gather, Topanga hadn't exactly been a good girl in New York. Not even Angela seemed very eager to see her or catch up with her. But Rachel was being pleasant enough to Topanga that Topanga didn't notice that she was being avoided. At least, Shawn hoped she didn't notice.

Shawn had the triumphant thought more than once that the only relationship that hadn't changed here was his and Cory's. They were close as ever, if not closer. They weren't interested in the same girl or judging each other for promiscuity or leaving the world they knew for something indefinable. No, they were still Shawn and Cory, Shawnie and Cor, best friends unthreatened by petty issues such as these.

Shawn looked away from Angela to smile at Cory, who smiled back before turning to Jack and saying something, probably something goofy, that made Jack laugh. Angela squeezed Shawn's arm.

"Finally figured it out, huh?" Angela said softly.

"What?"

Angela smiled and shook her head. "I figured you would first."

Shawn pretended he didn't know what she was talking about and shrugged. She shook her head again and walked away, finally trying her hand at talking with Topanga. Shawn refilled his red Solo cup and grinned to himself. Maybe it was obvious. Maybe Cory wouldn't be able to ignore it much longer. And maybe, Shawn thought as Cory approached and clapped him on the shoulder, neither of those things was so bad.


	6. The Bygone Latter

"So, get this," said Cory upon arriving at his and Shawn's new apartment. The two of them were off campus now, about three blocks away, close enough that Shawn didn't have to depend on Cory for his car, except when he felt lazy enough to do so. Shawn was still surprised at the deal they'd gotten. Just because it was above a bar that played honky tonk music till all hours, it was significantly cheaper than similarly furnished 2BR/2BA places they'd checked out. Having grown up in a trailer park, Shawn had heard far worse while he tried to sleep, and Cory ... well, Cory essentially became comatose between the hours of 1 and 10 in the morning, so there was no issue there.

"Did you just say 'Get this?'" Shawn asked, looking up from _Julian of Norwich_. It was the third week of junior year, and he was taking a medieval British literature course, which he loved, confusing Cory to no end.

"I did, and it's important that you let me continue." Cory dropped his bag by the door and sat down next to Shawn on the couch. "I was just talking to Eric, and apparently, Jack and Rachel are moving to Nigeria next semester, and Eric is thinking of joining them." Jack and Rachel had started dating over the summer. Eric remained the third wheel in their living arrangement.

"Wait, what? And why isn't one of them telling me this? Specifically, why isn't my brother telling me this?"

"From what Eric said, it sounds like Jack was nervous about your whole 'Everybody leaves me' complex—a completely justifiable complex, I know, Shawnie," said Cory before Shawn could interrupt him. "And I told him—"

"That it would've been better for Jack to tell me himself, because this just kind of lends to the 'Everybody leaves me and does it as cruelly as possible' theory?"

"Exactly," Cory said emphatically. "That's what I told Eric. And Eric said he agreed, and he thought it was dumb of Jack to keep it from you. But apparently, Jack's on edge around Eric a lot anyway, just constantly watching to make sure Eric doesn't try to steal Rachel or something, so Eric can't exactly ... stir the pot."

"Eric would never do anything like that," said Shawn. "Eric's not smart enough to do anything like that."

"Exactly." Cory shook his head and smiled. "Sometimes I think me and you have the same brain."

Shawn smiled, despite his disappointment in Jack. Jack had to have known somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind that this was a much worse way for Shawn to find out about his upcoming move. But then, he and Jack's relationship had always been tenuous. Why not make it more so?

"How's Julian doing?" Cory asked.

"Oh. Good. Not my favorite so far, but it's interesting enough. It's fascinating, the way religion was so interwoven with world culture back then."

"Right. Interesting. You know what's actually interesting? Constitutional law. I learned about constitutional law today."

"Of course you did." Shawn patted Cory on the shoulder condescendingly. Cory shoved him back.

"What did you want to do for dinner?" Shawn asked.

"I was thinking of cooking for you," said Cory. "Then I remembered you're not my husband, so I called the Thai place and they'll be delivering our food soon."

"Sounds great." Shawn picked up his book, and Cory took it out of his hands, shaking his head.

"No, no, no," said Cory. "You don't process bad news about your dumbass older brother by burying your nose in a book that no one would read under non-academic circumstances."

"You don't?"

Cory shook his head again. "No. You do it by watching _The X-Files_, eating greasy Thai food, drinking beer, and griping, with a side of bitching and moaning."

Shawn cocked his head and faked a moment of consideration. "That seems fair."

"I knew it would."

All the mystique of drinking had faded years ago. Now, they were 21, and having a beer every now and then was much more common than getting drunk and sharing secrets and falling asleep together. This particular Friday night, though, with Shawn getting disappointed in someone he cared about all over again, and Cory so willingly providing the refreshments, they might as well go with the latter.

"Dana Scully is the perfect woman," Shawn pronounced after three episodes, four beers, and two boxes of pad Thai. "She's hot. She's smart. She's funny. And she just used a defibrillator on that dude's face."

"I guess," said Cory, himself finishing a second lamb curry and a third beer—pitifully, as much as he needed to get drunk. "But I don't know how you can even pay attention to her when Mulder's around. I mean, I'm not into guys or anything, but the man is a stud."

"Hey. Hey." Shawn hit Cory on the arm.

"Ow."

"Sorry. Did I ever tell you what Griffin said?"

"About what?"

"About us."

"No."

"He thought we were together. Wait. Not together. In love."

Cory snorted. "Griffin thought that?"

"Yeah. He said it was obvious there was more going on." Shawn snickered. Even though on his end, this remained true, something about it seemed absolutely hilarious. "Can you believe that?"

"Well, Griffin's gay, right? He might just want everyone to be gay. He wanted _you _to be, at least."

"True."

"But when you think about it..." Cory looked over at Shawn, who focused on beer number five rather than Cory's long eyelashes and the microscopic sprinkling of freckles across his nose. "We'd make a pretty amazing couple."

"Yeah?" Shawn smiled like it was funny. Obviously, it wasn't. It was far from it. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. So he let Cory keep going.

"Yeah. We're both good at talking and listening, and we like the same things, and we're both really, really cute."

"That is true."

"And it's not like nothing's ever happened before, right?"

"Yeah, well, that was one time."

"One awesome time."

Shawn didn't say anything.

"What, Shawnie, you're not going to agree with me? I slept with a girl I thought I loved more than once, and I kissed her about 6000 times, and nothing was ever as good as that."

Shawn fought off a grin and said, "Yeah, it was pretty awesome, wasn't it?"

"Too bad about the two week rule, then," said Cory, taking another drink. "Otherwise, we'd be in it for the long haul, buddy."

This time, when they fell asleep on the couch together, there wasn't even a lead up discussion. To Shawn, it just seemed like the natural order of things, getting drunk with Cory till they were too tired to drag themselves to separate beds. He didn't touch Cory anymore than he had to—just arranged himself alongside his best friend and didn't even have to say to himself, "This is normal."

"I didn't say anything too weird last night, did I?" Cory asked the next afternoon. He and Shawn were sitting on the couch, still wearing what they'd fallen asleep in, each with a bowl of cereal. They'd been up late enough to justify sleeping till 1.

"You really don't remember?" Shawn laughed. "Again?"

"Again?"

"Oh, it's just ... this has happened before, you say something when we're drunk and you don't remember it later."

"What have I said?"

"Oh, nothing, really," said Shawn. "Just some embarrassing stuff here and there that isn't worth repeating."

"Well, now I'm curious," Cory said, pouting slightly. "Nothing? Not even any clues as to what my drunk self has to say?"

"Well, it's usually..." Shawn chose his words carefully, not smiling, but not frowning, either. "It usually has something to do with us. Me and you."

"Oh."

"Not in a weird way or anything. Just, you know. Stuff. Things."

"Very specific, Shawnie."

"Well, I don't know how much you really want to know, Cor."

Cory raised his spoon to his mouth and took his time chewing through a bite of cereal. "I don't really know, either," he said. "Why? You think if you tell me, it's going to make things weird between us? Because I'm pretty sure we could, I don't know, make out and things would still be about the same."

Shawn did what he could to remain expressionless. "You think so?"

"Well, yeah. Shawn, we're best friends," Cory said with a smile. "Even if what I'm doing when I'm drunk is professing my love for you, that's not going to change." He put down his bowl and spoon and put an arm around Shawn, pressing his lips against the other boy's temple. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Love you, too, Cor," Shawn said, hoping his actions weren't too obviously abrupt as he put down his own bowl and spoon and rushed off to his bathroom, saying he needed a shower. Somewhere between Cory having his arm around him and "I love you," he'd known that masturbating was not optional, but essential, and it was probably best for that not to happen in front of Cory and Saturday afternoon cartoons.

No girl, not one, not _ever_, made him feel this way with only words and a kiss on the head. In fact, no one had ever made him feel this way with much, much more than that. All it had been was a restatement of something he already knew and perhaps some more forthcoming physical affection than the norm. And yet, Shawn felt as though he'd just escaped the most intimate moment of his life.

He needed a way out today. He knew that if he stuck around, he'd end up saying or doing something that gave everything away. Shawn was going on two years of being in love with Cory and not bothering to let Cory know, and this, today, what had just happened, felt like a catalyst for change. So he packed up his books and walked to the campus library, saying he'd be back in the evening. And hopefully, by then, the urge to make a rather ill advised move would have subsided. When he got back, all done with _Julian _and onto _Sir Gawain and the Green Knight_, the feeling was still nagging, but not nearly as loudly as it had been when he'd hopped in the shower earlier that day. Cory didn't seem bothered that he'd been gone. Instead, all he did was point out Shawn had left his phone at the apartment and Jack had called five times.

"Normally I wouldn't look," said Cory apologetically. Shawn had sat down next to him on the couch, where Cory was watching a _Next Generation _rerun. "But it rang three times in a few minutes, and I thought it might be an emergency. But he didn't leave any messages. He just kept hanging up."

"You can look at my phone, Cor. Hell, you can answer my phone. I wonder why he didn't leave a message."

"Maybe he has something to say that won't fit in a three minute limit."

"Well, until he can say it, I'm going to wait this out."

Cory opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he just put his arm around Shawn. Shawn leaned against him. This time, he wasn't turned on. He couldn't be, not when he was so distracted by the innocent swell of affection for his best friend, who knew just what to say, and when to say nothing at all.


	7. The Reliability Factor

"I don't think any goodbye party has ever been so tense," Cory commented. It was the first Friday of February, and they'd just had Jack, Rachel, Eric, and a number of their friends over for a farewell celebration. Jack and Rachel's departure had been delayed when Rachel had trouble getting her passport, giving Jack even more time to behave awkwardly around Shawn. It had taken him over a month after Shawn found out he was leaving to actually speak with Shawn about it. By that time, Shawn wasn't particularly upset about it anymore, but Jack's groveling approach hadn't contributed to that. For Shawn, "time heals all wounds" never really applied. Instead, time worked like an ointment. You could never fully recover through time alone, but it helped. And the time between the night of _X-Files _and Thai food with Cory and the day Jack came over unannounced with a six pack and a sheepish smile on his face had certainly helped.

Part of that was due to British literature. In fact, "Milton heals all wounds" would be a more accurate slogan for Shawn. In addition to medieval British literature, he had been taking an entire course in Milton, and he loved it in a way he was fairly certain no one would ever understand—at least, not completely. Cory began to have some comprehension through Shawn's dramatic readings of _Paradise Lost_, though Shawn suspected Cory might just be amused by his affected English accent.

Shawn was making his way through a collection of Milton's 1645 poems that day. Cory was still on campus, doing a bit of studying in the library before he and Shawn had their now customary Friday night Thai food. Jack didn't have a key, and he didn't knock. He walked in on his own. Shawn pegged this as an attempt to get the upper hand early.

"So I guess I have an apology to make, huh?" Jack smiled. Shawn, having so much of it himself, was impervious to the Hunter charm and shrugged.

"Look, Shawn, I was going to tell you. I just hadn't figured out how."

"Oh, I think, 'Hey, Shawn, I'm going to Africa for a few months' would've been a nice start," said Shawn, successfully using the side of the coffee table as a bottle opener.

"Yeah, but I couldn't do it just like that, you know?"

"No, Jack. I don't." Shawn shook his head. "You know it won't change much, right? I mean, I never see you anyway. We're not each other's best friends. We never have been. And that's OK. I'm fine with that."

"Because you have Cory."

Shawn felt his jaw clench and his shoulders tense up. "Because I have me. And yeah, Cory's here, too. But I learned a long time ago that people can leave whenever they want. And they do."

"I'm not leaving you. I'm just ... going away for a while."

"And there's a difference? Jack, you know if you like it there, you're not coming back. Especially not now that you're with Rachel. And that's good. I think that's good for you. Really, I do. I just wish you'd been able to tell me you were going on your own."

"I'm not good at talking to you. I never have been."

"Well, there's something we have in common." Shawn smiled crookedly, and Jack, with some hesitance, smiled back.

"All I'm asking is that next time you make a life altering decision, just let me know, OK?" Shawn patted Jack on the shoulder, who nodded.

"You'll do the same for me?"

"The decisions I make are never quite as exciting as yours."

Cory came in then, and Shawn now remembered that time as the last good conversation he'd had with Jack. The goodbye party certainly hadn't involved any of those. It was instead filled with forced conversations and Eric shooting longing looks in Rachel's direction.

"Oh, but parties all only ever good if there's some tension brewing," said Shawn.

"Sexual tension, maybe. But not crippling social anxiety-tinged tension."

"At least we tried."

"Did you say goodbye to Jack?" Cory asked.

"Not really. He hugged me on his way out and said he'd send his address, then he walked away before I had the chance to say a word." Shawn smiled wryly. "Defines our relationship pretty well."

"Hey, if you ever need a more loyal brother, you can share Eric," Cory offered. "He's completely harmless, usually very friendly, and stupid enough that sometimes, all you can do is look at him and go, 'Aw.'"

"I'll keep that in mind," said Shawn. "So, it's Friday, but I'm pretty sure Bangkok Delicious isn't open after midnight."

"Shawnie, I'm hurt. You don't think I planned ahead?" With a flourish, Cory opened the fridge and pulled out two paper bags, presumably full of curries and pad Thai.

"Aw, thanks, roomie! And look, we've got all this leftover liquor. Whatever should we do with it?"

"You've been reading too much highbrow literature," said Cory, handing Shawn one of the bags. "Please, do me a favor and never start a sentence that should begin with 'what' with 'whatever' ever again."

"I'll do my best." Shawn grinned. "Thanks, Cor."

"Of course," said Cory. "Now, the question is, _X-Files _movie or _X-Files _episodes?"

"Movie," said Shawn. "First, though, tell me why you're being so nice right now, because if you're looking for something in return, I'm not sure I'll be able to give it to you."

"One, I don't need anything in return, two, I don't ever need a reason to be nice to you, and three, if I do happen to be acting particularly nicely, it might be because my best friend is losing yet another person who isn't worth his time and I want to remind him that I'm never going to leave."

Silence. Shawn stepped toward Cory, who put down his bag as Shawn hugged him. It lasted at least a solid half minute before either of them said anything.

"Cory?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For reminding me." Shawn pulled away slightly to kiss Cory on the forehead in what he hoped was a perfectly innocent way. "Seriously, man, I couldn't ask for a better friend."

"Oh, I know," said Cory. "And neither could I." He kissed Shawn, too, in the same place Shawn had kissed him, and Shawn hoped the heat he felt rise to his cheeks wasn't visible. "You sure about the movie? Because there's this episode in season five that's like film noir style, and Mulder and Scully—"

"For all I care, we can watch the original _Star Trek_," said Shawn, who still hadn't let go of Cory, nor had Cory backed away. "I have pad Thai, I have vodka, and I have you. What else do I need?"

"Milton, probably," Cory said, now going to the microwave with bag in hand. "Sometimes I get jealous of that guy. You spend so much time with him."

"Less this semester than last one. And you know he's dead, right? Even if he liked sci-fi and lamb curry, I still couldn't replace you with him."

"You'd never even try."

"No. If he was alive, on the other hand..."

"Well, if Gene Roddenberry was still alive, I'd drop you in a heartbeat," said Cory.

"Who's Gene Roddenberry?"

"Oh, come on, Shawnie, you've read his name at least 15 times before, and never completely willingly. Gene Roddenberry! The creator of _Star Trek_!"

"You're saying I could be cleanly replaced by the creator of _Star Trek_? You know, if you were trying to cheer me up, Cor..."

"Microwave's all yours."

"Thanks."

Soon enough, the two of them were settled in, Benji, Cory's stuffed rabbit, sandwiched between them.

"This one's really good, I promise," said Cory.

"Please, Cor. Is there a _bad _episode of _The X-Files_?"

"Well, let's see. 'Chinga,' 'Never Again,' 'Milagro'—"

"I liked 'Milagro.'"

"That's because it was about a weedy guy who wrote pretty stories and maybe slept with Scully."

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying I'm weedy?"

"No. I'm just saying you sympathize with the weedy guy."

"I can't believe this. You think I'm weedy."

"Shawn, you couldn't be further from weedy. You're the best looking person I've ever met."

Neither Shawn nor Cory said anything as the episode began. When the opening credits rolled, Shawn said quietly, "Cory?"

"Yeah?"

"There is no one else in this world as adorable as you are."

Cory smiled. "Oh, stop it."

It went without saying that they'd be falling asleep together again. But this night there were no confessions, no words exchanged that one or the other was bound to forget later. Instead, there was pure, perfect, companionable silence as Shawn and Cory allowed their hands to brush together and tangled two sets of legs together as though they were one. For once, alone in the dark, Shawn didn't want to come on to Cory with lips or hands or more. He just wanted to be there, innocently touching this boy, this best friend of his, so true to his word, so different from the rest of the world in so many wonderful ways. He felt mawkish but he didn't care. If this was what waiting was going to be, then Shawn could wait—not forever, but for now.


	8. The Sleepover

"Thank God we are here."

Shawn laughed. He and Cory were standing on the Matthews' porch, waiting to be let in. Although Cory obviously had a key to his parents' house, he was adamant that someone come to the door, invite them in, and treat them like guests.

"No, seriously, thank him. He deserves it. Somehow, I am still alive, and that can only possibly be by divine intervention."

"Come on, Cor, this semester hasn't been that bad," said Shawn.

"Do you even know what it's like to read case files from the 1960s? Do you? Why the hell isn't anyone answering?"

Cory's mother opened the door. "Come on in, boys. Happy holiday break."

It was the third week of December, and both Shawn and Cory were spending much of their break with Cory's family. Shawn had a standing invitation to the Matthews' for holidays, and now, as he and Cory prepared to enter their final semester at Penn State, he took them up on their offer. It was comforting, being parented for a week or two before going back to the hell that was senior year. Actually, it wasn't that bad, something even Cory would admit if pressed hard enough. But still, being babied had its advantages, and Shawn was reminded of that as Mrs. Matthews pressed a cup of cocoa into his hands after practically pushing both him and Cory onto the couch.

"And extra whipped cream for you, Cory," she said, handing him a second mug.

"Thanks, Mom." Cory took a slurp—definitely a slurp, not a sip—and said, "Where are you bunking us?"

"Well, you're both in the room you used to share with Eric. There's only one bed in there now," Mrs. Matthews said apologetically. "If one of you wants to sleep down here instead—"

Cory waved his free hand. "Not a problem, Mom." Shawn looked down at his cocoa, trying to hide the smile he couldn't seem to keep off his face.

"So, how were your exams?"

Shawn let Cory unload on his mom as Morgan walked downstairs and struck up a conversation. Much to Cory, Eric, and Mr. Matthews' disappointment, Morgan wasn't just attractive now. She was hot. Even Shawn noticed it, and the girl was like a little sister to him. Still, he didn't feel anything as he stood up to hug her and she sat down next to him, seemingly hanging on his every word as he described his fairly mundane life as an English major.

"Do you ever read Shakespeare? We had to read _Romeo & Juliet _last term."

"Yeah, I took a class on him. We skipped that one, though. Too many of us had read it in high school."

"What did you read?"

"Felt like pretty much everything else," said Shawn. "_A Midsummer Night's Dream_, _Much Ado About Nothing_, _Othello_, _The Merchant of Venice_, _Titus Andronicus_..."

"Wow," Morgan said. "I've never even heard of half of those."

Shawn laughed. "It wasn't so bad once we got going. And I had a friend in the class, which always helps."

"Oh, is it that guy who had a crush on you?" Morgan asked. "Cory said you guys always had classes together."

"Cory told you about Griffin?"

Morgan shrugged. "I think he was jealous. You're only supposed to love him."

Shawn forced a laughed and steered the subject away from Cory's jealousy of Griffin, but the thought didn't leave his mind, even as Eric arrived and Mr. Matthews came home and the entire group ate dinner together. After dessert and drinks, it was going on 10, and Shawn and Cory headed up to Cory's old bedroom.

"I'm not dying anymore," Cory announced, laying down on the bed and stretching his arms behind his head. "My mother's cooking just cured me of anything I had."

Shawn hung by the door. "Your sister said you told her about Griffin. Being jealous of him or whatever. When'd you tell her that?"

"Oh." Cory looked embarrassed. "A while ago. Like, sophomore year a while ago. But I updated her on the situation after he started seeing Blake." Griffin had a boyfriend now, which came as a relief for Shawn, who had long since grown sick of furtive glances and references to the fact that both of them remained single.

"You know you never had anything to be jealous of, right?" Shawn asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Griffin's cool, but he's not you."

"It always seems like you have more in common with him than you have with me, though. I guess that worried me a lot when he had a thing for you."

"But I didn't have a thing for him," Shawn pointed out. "And yeah, we like literature and writing, whatever. But the important stuff, Thai food and beer and _The X-Files _on Friday nights, being forced into watching _Star Trek _and actually enjoying it, quizzing each other on review sheets like we're in sixth grade—that's all you, Cor."

Cory smiled. "I guess I shouldn't really get nervous about your loyalty, should I? I mean, you know what it feels like, being left behind. And that's why you'll never do it to me."

"That, and I love you."

"Yeah, that too." Cory put his hand on Shawn's shoulder and squeezed. "Love you too, buddy."

"Now, isn't there some _Star Trek _you need to make me watch before bed?"

"Yeah, probably." Cory rummaged through his DVD binder, choosing carefully. "You've never seen the finale, have you?"

"Of _Next Gen_? No."

"How much do I get to make fun of you for calling it that?"

"As much as you want. Queue it up."

Shawn climbed under the covers while Cory set up the DVD. When it was ready, Cory, without hesitance, joined Shawn in bed.

"This is really comfortable," said Cory. "Why don't we sleep in the same bed all the time?"

"Because it would ruin our bustling sex lives," Shawn said, allowing his leg to graze Cory's. Cory didn't move away.

"Can sex lives bustle?"

"If they're ours, then yes, they absolutely can. So, do we want to watch this thing?"

"Let's make my mom make us popcorn first," said Cory before shouting "Mom!"

"Not the way I would've approached it, but a good idea nonetheless," Shawn said as Mrs. Matthews walked into the room.

"Oh, you two are so cute!" she said. "Look at you. It's just like the slumber parties you had when you were little."

"Thanks, Mom," said Cory. "Hey, do you think you could make us some popcorn?"

"I sure can," she said, going back down the stairs. Shawn and Cory started the episode, wordlessly accepting the bowl of popcorn Mrs. Matthews brought in a few minutes later. As was usually the case with _Star Trek_, Shawn was resistant to the material at first, recognizing when the dialogue was wooden and the scenarios too unbelievable even for fantastical sci-fi. But as the story progressed, he found himself getting deeply involved with what might lie ahead for the crew. He even shed a tear or two at the end, just as he had with _First Contact_, and this time, there was no alcohol to blame.

"Awesome, right?" Cory said afterward.

"Yeah. Yeah, it was."

"What'd you like best about it?"

"I don't know. Everything?"

Cory laughed. "I knew it. I knew I'd turn you into a sci-fi fan eventually."

"Hey, don't go too far here," said Shawn. "I can think an episode of _Star Trek _is awesome without being a legitimate fan of sci-fi."

"But what about _The X-Files_?"

"What about it? _The X-Files _is a drama with supernatural elements. It's not sci-fi. No true sci-fi fan would say so."

"Fair point," said Cory. "What time is it?"

"Almost 11, as the clock radio you can clearly see so helpfully points out."

"Why am I so tired? This really is like an elementary school sleepover. We think we're going to stay up all night watching scary movies then fall asleep while it's practically still light out."

"It only looks that way because of the snow," said Shawn.

"You know what I mean."

"Well, I like how it feels. It's nice, pretending to be young once in a while, don't you think? I mean, doesn't the future kind of freak you out sometimes?"

"Of course it does," said Cory. "But I didn't know you were scared. I mean, you're starting an internship next month and everything." Shawn had landed an unpaid position at a literary agency close to their apartment, one where he hoped to work for money eventually.

"Are you kidding? I'm terrified," Shawn said. "I've never had a real job before. I don't know the first thing about the publishing industry. I don't know, Cor. I feel like I've spent so long wanting to be an adult that I never really thought about what it would be like."

"It's weird, isn't it?" asked Cory. "Like, when did it happen? When did we go from little boys who fell asleep before midnight to guys who can't sleep because they're busy getting their bachelor's degrees and preparing to go out into the real world?"

"I don't know," said Shawn. "But I don't think there's any way to make it stop."

"At least we're both here," Cory said, laying his head on Shawn's shoulder.

"Yeah," said Shawn. "We are." He dropped his head toward Cory's to kiss his temple in what he imagined to be a perfectly innocent matter. Judging by the smile on Cory's face, it either was perceived as such, or Cory was in love with him, too. Whether that was true or not, Shawn wasn't sure anymore. Sometimes, he was sure Cory would never come around on the idea of being something beyond best friends. Others, all signs pointed to Cory's interest in pursuing a relationship. Shawn never thought Cory was one for subtlety, but when it came to this particular situation, he'd mastered it.

"I think I'm going to sleep," said Cory. "Oh, shit. I forgot Benji." Every night, Cory slept with a stuffed rabbit under his arm, but he'd left Benji on his bed at the apartment.

Shawn sighed. "Need my arm?"

Cory looked sheepish. "Yeah. I think I do."

"Have at," said Shawn, offering it to Cory. Cory wrapped his arms around Shawn's, not quite in a death grip, but tightly enough. Soon, the boy's breath became steady, and Shawn quit trying to keep the smile off his face.


	9. The Shift

"How many days?" asked Cory.

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Three."

"Three what?"

"Three days."

"Three days till what?"

"Three days till we graduate college."

Cory shrieked and shuffled about for a minute or two. This had been routine over the past two weeks. The only part of the conversation that changed was the number. And no matter how many times it happened, Shawn still smiled when Cory attempted a softshoe.

"You sound like a girl when you scream," Shawn pointed out.

"Yeah, well, we can't all be so manly as Shawn Hunter." Cory flopped down onto the couch. "This is a weird week. All done with exams..."

"Not everyone is," said Shawn, who had his last that Wednesday evening.

"Well, close enough, you're all done with exams around 9 tonight," said Cory. "No more homework, no more going to classes ever again unless you do the thing where you decide you're bigger than the workforce and go to grad school..."

"Why would I do that?" Shawn asked. "I have a job." The literary agency where he'd been interning, Colwyn, had offered him a position as assistant administrator of editorial. This essentially boiled down to him assisting the assistant editor, as he had been before, but now, he'd be paid for it.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," said Cory. "I got a call from Rutherford, Warren, and Corrigan. I have a second interview next week."

"Really? That's awesome!" Cory had recentlyapplied for a job at a small law firm about half an hour away from their apartment. If he landed it, he'd be an assistant in the paralegal department with what the firm described as "a strong chance of promotion." Cory was keeping an abnormally cool head about it, which Shawn pinned on what he'd come to think of as Cory's "ecstatic distraction" over the prospect of not being in college anymore.

It wasn't that Cory disliked college. Neither did Shawn. But there was something both terrifying and alluring about the real world you could never get within the confines of school. Shawn began to find it at his job. No one was monitoring his progress or telling him when he needed to shape up. Instead, he was given things to do, and he did them. Sometimes, he was told he'd done well. Others, he didn't get any feedback. It was as though they expected constant competence, and they felt they received it, and business progressed as usual. Shawn loved it. Foreign as it was, being respected as a co-worker, was a great feeling, unlike any he'd ever had before. At the same time, this newfound freedom was a strange thing to wield. How did you control something you didn't even know how to have?

Nevertheless, Shawn was happy. Once he trudged through this 16th century poetry exam tonight, he'd be done with college, all but the ceremony and the slip of paper that said so. Better yet, he'd be with his best friend—and Shawn was beginning to think there might be more to that.

Obviously, there'd been more to it on his side for years. But now, just in the past semester, something in Cory seemed to have shift. Shawn didn't quite know how to describe it. It just felt like everything meant more. Now, whether or not they were under the influence, they slept on the couch together every Friday, and sometimes Saturday. Neither said a word about why it started happening, or why it continued, but Shawn was pleased with the arrangement, and he guessed that Cory was, too. Benji usually joined them, but sometimes, Cory forgot him and used Shawn's arm as a substitute. Those, to Shawn, were the best nights.

And it was other things, too. Sometimes, for no reason, Cory would sling an arm around Shawn and say something nice about his hair or his shirt or, on rare occasion, his penmanship. Other times, there'd be a kiss on the forehead before bed, or one in the morning while Shawn was making breakfast. All of it happened naturally. It never felt as though Cory was trying to start something or force himself on Shawn. It was something Shawn had never really had before with anyone: it was sweet.

Shawn hadn't asked Cory about it, nor had Cory made any attempts to explain himself. Maybe that was part of why it felt so natural. Shawn didn't care. If this was a progression, and it was moving toward something more meaningful ... Well, in case it wasn't, Shawn tried not to entertain the thought. But it still crept in, every now and then, when Cory's arm was around him or Cory's leg rested against his. When it came down to it, there was nothing Shawn wanted more than to be Cory's boyfriend. And he lived with that every day.

The exam went off without a hitch, and Shawn and Cory celebrated afterward with a bottle of wine and a movie of Shawn's choosing, _Before Sunrise_. It was the simplest film, just two people falling in love for a single night before promising to meet up again, if not the next year, then someday. It was the kind of movie Shawn had trouble not smiling the whole way through. So he did, both for the film and for the obvious external reasons. He was done with school. He had a job. He had a stable living situation, and had for the last four years, and he had Cory. There was only one way life could be happier and more satisfying than it was. That much was obvious. But right now, with Cory falling asleep against his shoulder and the movie drawing to a close on the smallish TV screen, things certainly felt happy enough to him.

Jack was back for graduation, which was thoughtful, considering Shawn hadn't asked him to be. Shawn suspected Eric had had something to do with it, but when he saw how proud Jack looked over dinner after commencement, he didn't really care. Strained as their relationship might be, he and his half-brother respected each other, and being reminded of that made the already great day even sweeter.

The entire Matthews family was there, though Joshua didn't seem so pleased to be, having trouble staying still at the ludicrously expensive Italian restaurant Cory's parents had picked and retiring to his bedroom within minutes of getting back to the Matthews' for dessert and drinks. Jack came with them, and not for the first time, Shawn noticed the glaring lack of Rachel. He mentioned it to Eric.

"Oh, yeah," said Eric with a grimace. "They broke up a few weeks back. She wanted to stay in Nigeria, and he wanted to come back and go to med school after seeing how badly some of the kids they spent time with needed better doctors. So they didn't really see how they could stay together on opposite ends of the world." Eric looked thoughtful for a moment. "Are Nigeria and Philadelphia actually opposite ends of the world? Hey, Mom, do we still have that inflatable globe in the basement?"

Eric wandered off as Cory brought Shawn a plateful of new desserts. "Here's round 2. We lead off with chocolate covered strawberries, then segue into truffles and what Morgan keeps calling 'petit fours,' but I suspect all they are is tiny cakes." Cory picked up one of the petit fours and shoved it into Shawn's mouth. It was delicious, but Cory's fingertips on his lips were more so.

"Thanks. I can't feed myself, so that was really helpful."

"I'm hurt that you haven't yet reciprocated," said Cory. Shawn complied, lifting a strawberry to Cory's mouth and trying not to stare too hard at his lips. "Delicious. We should tell my mom, probably."

"Actually, I made the strawberries," Morgan said as she walked over. "Mom was responsible for the truffles and the brownies from earlier. I did everything else."

"Impressive," said Shawn. "You're almost like a grownup now."

Morgan punched him on the arm. Shawn hit back and Morgan giggled. Shawn figured she was flirting, but he passed it off as normal surrogate sibling behavior.

"Shawn, did you want to go with me to the kitchen to get some more soda?" Cory asked abruptly.

"Oh. Um, sure."

"Are you flirting with my sister?" Cory didn't look at Shawn as he poured himself some Coke.

"You serious, Cor? Of course I'm not. I mean, maybe she is, but you know all I think of Morgan is the same you do. She's like my kid sister. So she got attractive. So what? She's still a little girl to me."

"Are you sure?" Cory looked Shawn in the eye as he handed him a second cup of Coke.

"Of course I'm sure," said Shawn. "I wouldn't lie to you about something like that. Seriously, Cor, I couldn't be interested in Morgan if I tried."

"Well, that's good."

"Why would you worry so much about it, anyway?"

"I guess..." Cory smiled sheepishly and put a hand on Shawn's shoulder. "I just don't want to lose you to my little sister."

They hugged and went back to the party, Shawn's cheeks burning all the way. It wasn't long before he was taken away again to the kitchen, this time by Jack.

"So, Shawn, I couldn't help noticing the way you and Cory are acting around each other," Jack said levelly. "Was there something you wanted to tell me? Or Eric? Or, you know, anyone?"

"What do you mean?" Shawn asked.

"Well, it's like ... I don't know, something changed," said Jack. "You're touching each other more. You're paying even more attention to each other than you used to. It's like you're practically inseparable. I'd almost think..."

Jack didn't say anything for what felt like forever.

"You'd almost think what?"

"I don't know," said Jack. "See, this is weird, because before college, you were this ladies' man. You had a new girlfriend literally every two weeks till Angela, and even then, I knew you couldn't really be serious about her. Then you get to school, and it's just you and Cory all the time, living together." Jack laughed, though it sounded nervous. "I mean, it might be hard not to ... well, you know what I'm getting at, Shawn. Admit it. You do."

"You think Cory and I are interested in each other," Shawn said.

"Yes."

Shawn swallowed hard. "While that may be true on at least one end, we're not together or anything. We haven't ... done anything. If he likes me, too, he hasn't said anything about it."

Jack shook his head. "I don't know Cory as well as you do. Hell, it's not possible to know Cory as well as you do. But from what I remember of him and Topanga, he never acted like he liked her the way he likes you."

"Really?"

"Absolutely." Jack put his hand on Shawn's shoulder. "I think someone you love loves you too, Shawn. And I think that maybe, eventually, you might want to do something about it."

At the back of Shawn's mind, he had been wondering for weeks if he was imagining the changes. Was Cory really expressing something more than before, or had Shawn deluded himself into think he would after the slumber party in December? Now, someone else had noticed. And that someone else had said something. And despite Jack's track record, there was no reason for Shawn to think he wasn't right.

Shawn, along with Cory, was tipsy enough to stay at the Matthews' that night. He went to the bedroom he'd shared with Cory over Christmas earlier than he might usually, pinning it on exhaustion. Really, it just seemed like the best place to be alone with his thoughts. Not ten minutes passed before Cory walked in and began changing into his pajamas. Shawn didn't look away. Cory had to notice, but he didn't say anything, so Shawn assumed he didn't care. Maybe he even wanted him to. It was hard to tell. It always was.

Shawn took off his shirt so he was only wearing boxers. Cory looked at him, unabashedly checking him out. _Drink it in, buddy_, Shawn thought. _You can look at me all you want_.

Cory wordlessly climbed into bed next to Shawn. Both settled in, lying down, Shawn confused about what do with his limbs now that Cory was so close to him. For once, though, Cory was the self-assured one as he draped an arm over Shawn's naked chest and allowed their feet to entangle.

"Happy graduation, Shawnie," Cory half whispered. "I love you."

"You too. For both," said Shawn, and they fell asleep together, more intimately than ever before.


	10. The Breaking Point

**This gets a little M here and there. You have been forewarned. Also, I realized there's some serious retconning going on with Jack, Rachel, and Eric. I prefer it here to how it is in "Needs," so we'll go forward like this. Sorry to go all **_**Voyager **_**on you there.**

The kisses were nightly now.

It was two months after graduation, and Shawn and Cory felt like honest to goodness adults now. Cory had gotten the job at the firm, and both of them worked nine to five every week, though sometimes Shawn stayed later, depending on deadlines. They'd rearranged their apartment so two desks took up much of the space in the living room for the purposes of working at home. As a result, the DVD player had been moved into Cory's room. They'd also bought a new TV with the sudden influx of cash, plus some much better furniture to replace the couch and chairs they'd acquired from Goodwill their freshman year. And there was art now. At least, there were art prints on the walls, and a classic movie poster or two. It was a bachelor pad with class, or so Mrs. Matthews said, and Shawn and Cory were happy with it.

Also, kissing.

It was very rarely on the lips, and even more rarely on the neck, but it was routine now. And now, on Fridays, instead of shacking up on the couch, Shawn simply went to Cory's bedroom. The atmosphere had shifted. Shawn was almost certain Cory had something more in mind than what was happening now. Otherwise, all that kissing would've been awfully cruel.

They branched out beyond _The X-Files_, _Star Trek_, and cute little indie movies, moving onto escapist fantasies. Both were strong admirers of the James Bond series, but neither had seen every movie, so they were watching or re-watching them one by one. It wasn't taking long. Shawn and Cory enjoyed them enough that sometimes they'd have to throw one in during the workweek. And if that meant Shawn spent the night in Cory's bed and neither got the sleep they needed, well, that was a sacrifice they were willing to make.

Someday, Shawn hoped to thank Roger Moore for what happened the night the two of them started _The Spy Who Loved Me_. Although he knew, blissfully, _ecstatically_ knew, that something like this was coming, he still didn't know when it would happen, or how good or how natural it would be. And maybe Roger Moore had nothing to do with it, but regardless, the guy was pretty badass, and he made good background entertainment for the events of that night.

Well, really, it was one big event, led into by a number of smaller, still pleasurable ones. It started with how they were positioned. Shawn, ever the dominant one, had taken the submissive position for once, curled up against the crook of Cory's arm while Cory idly rested his hand on Shawn's thigh. Then Cory was touching Shawn's hair, running his fingers through it, the motion jerky for a moment, then smooth, soft, delicate ... amazing. Shawn tried not to respond with any sounds of affirmation, something that seemed almost unreasonably difficult right now. Then Shawn felt something he hadn't in a long time, and certainly never from Cory: a pair of lips on his ear, tugging, kissing, licking, until they found their way down to Shawn's neck, and then his collarbone as Cory tugged his t-shirt to the side. And then Cory was on top of Shawn, and Shawn was quite suddenly flat on his back, raising himself up only to take off his shirt and help with Cory's.

Both were wordless as they kissed, and made out, and touched each other, and sucked each other. Eventually, inevitably, Shawn was on top of Cory, so grateful that he'd wishfully bought some lube a couple months back and shoved it to the back of one of the drawers on Cory's nightstand. It was over far too quickly, and Shawn rolled off Cory and Cory rolled onto his back, and both panted and sighed as though they'd run the world's most pleasurable marathon.

"That was..." Shawn couldn't seem to finish his thought.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'incredible,'" said Cory.

"How long have you ... wanted ... that?" Shawn asked, still not entirely sure how to put a sentence together.

"Honestly? Since the night we watched _M*A*S*H _after I broke up with Topanga."

"You serious? And you haven't done anything about it till now?"

"Well, I don't know," said Cory. "I thought we were both dropping quite a lot of hints since then. I mean ... when did you know?"

"About as long," Shawn said. "If not longer. It really started to hit me sophomore year, though. I just ... God, Cor. Why were we so dumb? Why didn't we do anything about it?"

"I was scared, Shawnie. I didn't understand why ... I mean, yeah, high school, the playground after the dance, whatever, I could say that was just one time, but then all those times I got drunk and said something—I remember everything."

"Really?"

"Really." Cory smiled and kissed Shawn on the forehead. "And I don't regret saying any of it. I think it kept us ... going, you know? Like, toward something. Like this."

"So now, I guess I can hold you and you'll understand why."

"Yeah."

"And I can show you those poems I wrote about you."

"You wrote poems about me?"

"You kidding? There's tons. Actually, I probably shouldn't show you. You'd blush."

"I bet you like it when I blush."

"I do."

"See, that works out, because I like the way you try to hide it when you blush."

"I do not!"

"You always do."

"You know, I haven't tickled you in a while."

"Maybe that's a good thing."

"I don't think so."

A tickle-based war ensued then, which culminated in Shawn pinning Cory down on the bed, which culminated in something else entirely, but not quite all the way before both boys acknowledged they were exhausted and fell asleep, still wrapped up in each other's limbs. They woke up that way, too.

"Think we can do that every night?" Cory asked.

"Which part?"

"While I'd love to do all of it every night, I don't really think I have the stamina. I meant the sleeping together part."

"Yeah," said Shawn, smiling. "Yeah, I think we can. But we'll have to find something to do with that extra bedroom."

"Well, I've been thinking of buying a pinball machine."

"Of course you have."

"Maybe it can be a guestroom?"

"Depends. How do you think our guests will feel about two guys who share a room?"

"Oh, God," said Cory. "This means we have to tell people, doesn't it?"

"We do," Shawn said. "Some are going to be easier than others, though."

"Griffin."

"Of course."

"And Jack."

"He practically already knows. So does Angela. She has for a while. But that won't be easy to communicate."

"Actually, that'll be impossible," said Cory. "How long's she known?"

"I don't even know. Years."

"So we were obvious for that long?"

"To everyone but each other, yeah."

"I think if we were ever obvious to my parents, though..." Cory turned toward Shawn and pushed some stray hairs out of his face. "They probably tried to ignore it."

"Would they have a problem with you and me? I honestly hadn't even thought about that."

"I really don't know. Though, for once, I don't know if I care."

Shawn kissed Cory with what he hoped was tenderness but soon turned to urgency. What followed was amazing, though Shawn acknowledged to himself that nothing would ever quite match the heights of the first time.

"Is this how we're going to end all uncomfortable conversations?" Cory asked as they walked toward his shower.

"Do you care?"

"Good point."

Shawn had never showered with another person before. Angela had suggested it, but he'd always resisted. Shower time was private time, one of the only times he could be isolated from the world entirely, and he cherished that. But showering with Cory, well, that saved water, and it only seemed fair, since they'd caused each other's need to clean up. Shawn hadn't yet gotten over seeing all of Cory, and seeing it dripping wet and soaped up, well, it wasn't a bad thing. In fact, he thought as Cory kissed his neck and washed his back, it was pretty damn good.

It was a Sunday, so there wasn't much to do but think of clever ways to tell Cory's family they were together now. It gave Shawn an opportunity to call Cory his boyfriend out loud, and that was what he did when he called Jack. They decided to start with the easy ones, and it was a tough call who was easier, Jack or Griffin. Shawn went with his brother first and thought he and Cory could turn it into a kind of casual celebration with Griffin and his boyfriend later that night.

"Well, it's about time," said Jack when Shawn shared the news.

"I figured your reaction would be along those lines," Shawn said.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Have you figured out how to tell the Matthews yet?"

"No, not really. Any suggestions?"

"Well, Eric and Morgan will be fine with it," said Jack. "But the parents, that's harder. I think they'll get over it in time, but it's going to be hard to swallow. They know you so well as best friends."

"I thought maybe that would make it a tiny bit easier for them."

"Maybe. You'll just have to see. Does anyone else know yet?"

"Nope, you're the first."

"I'm flattered."

"I know."

Shawn called Griffin next.

"Did you want to get together tonight? You and Blake and me and Cor? We have something to tell you."

"Oh, you're together now?" Griffin asked, sounding excited. "That's great. Congrats. We'll have to celebrate, then. Pizza, maybe?"

"You weren't supposed to figure it out already!"

"What else could I get from 'We have something to tell you?'"

"Alright, that's fair. 7?"

"7."

Shawn put down the phone and turned to Cory, who was reading a Harry Potter book. "Griffin figured it out."

"Smart guy."

"We're seeing them at 7."

"Great. Should I call Eric?"

"Probably."

"But Harry's about to start the second task in the Triwizard Tournament."

"Oh, well, in that case..." Shawn took the book from Cory's hands.

"Hey!"

"Call your brother, Cor."

"Fine. I will. But I won't be happy about it."

Turns out, he was. Eric was very, very cool with the idea of his brother dating Shawn.

"It's almost like he already knew," said Cory. "But he's not particularly bright, so I'm not sure how he would."

"Maybe Jack mentioned something."

"Probably. Regardless, that was easy. You're not going to make me call Morgan, too, are you? I mean, we got Jack, we got Eric, we got our token gay friend..."

Shawn laughed. "No, we can be done for the day. But as far as Morgan goes, and as far as your parents go..."

"Soon," Cory said, lightly pulling Shawn's head toward his and kissing him on the bridge of his nose. "Next time they ask us over for dinner."

"Promise?"

"Promise." Cory kissed Shawn again, this time on the mouth, leading Shawn to look at the clock and do some mental math. It wasn't quite three in the afternoon. If they wanted to finish _The Spy Who Loved Me_, they could do that, and then they could watch _Moonraker_, and maybe even start _For Your Eyes Only_.

"Cor?"

"Yeah, Shawnie?"

"Did you want to finish the movie, or do you just want to—"

"I can't believe you even have to ask. I mean, I've had hours for recovery time, and we haven't even tried doing it on a desk yet."

"You'd rather try doing it on a desk than the couch?"

Cory looked down at where they were sitting, the two seat couch—technically, Shawn supposed, the love seat—that still fit snugly in their living room. "Oh. This might be more conducive."

"You're lucky you're cute," Shawn said, going in for another kiss, and another, and another.


	11. The Guy Who Loved Me

"I'm nervous. Do you know how often I get nervous?" Shawn asked Cory, looking in the mirror and straightening his tie. "I don't. Ever. That's how often I get nervous. So this, what I'm feeling right now, this is extremely uncomfortable for me."

"I don't know why you're freaking out so much," said Cory. "I mean, I do. But it's still my parents. Oh, and what's with the tie? You're already wearing a frigging Oxford. I'm pretty sure that's going to be enough."

"Fine," Shawn grumbled, loosening the tie and slipping it off. "You think I'm overdressed, then?"

"Shawnie, let me reiterate: we're having dinner with my parents. It's completely normal. We just happen to be telling them we're dating. After many, many years of friendship. And being straight." Realization seemed to dawn on Cory. "Oh, God. We're telling my parents we're dating."

"See? Maybe you should dress up, too."

Cory looked down at his polo and khakis. "I went to work in this. I can have dinner in this."

"I'll put jeans on," Shawn said, grumbling again.

"You have jeans on," Cory pointed out.

"Oh. Well. I'm ready, then, I guess."

"And look at that!" Cory gestured at the clock over Shawn's shoulder. "We have enough time for a quickie."

"Yeah, something tells me that's not the best idea," said Shawn, kissing Cory on the cheek. "I don't want to be thinking dirty thoughts about you at the Matthews kitchen table any more than I already will be."

"How often do you think dirty thoughts about me?" Cory asked, smiling.

"You don't deserve to know." Shawn winked, Cory rolled his eyes, and they kissed, just once, before heading for the Matthews'.

At first, things felt tense to Shawn, maybe because Cory kept trying to start a game of footsie under the table and Shawn was somehow convinced that the Matthews knew it wasn't innocent footsie, but footsie with subtext. Or maybe it was the way Morgan kept looking at Shawn, then looking at Cory, and then smiling. They'd told her about the two of them the week before, and she'd been thrilled, and apparently, she still was. Or maybe—OK, probably—it was because, for the first time, Shawn saw with perfect clarity that the Matthews parents treated him like one of their own. And if they looked at Shawn as a son, then they might not be too crazy about the nature of his relationship with his "brother."

Eventually, the moment Shawn dreaded arrived: a 12-second lull in the conversation, which Cory had said would be the perfect amount of time. How he arrived on that figure, Shawn would never know, but he didn't care. All he knew was Cory was taking the reins on this one, and Shawn would only speak if it were absolutely necessary.

"Mom, Dad, we have something to tell you," Cory began.

Mrs. Matthews looked up from her plate. "Oh? What's that, Cory?"

"Shawn and I..." Cory squeezed Shawn's hand under the table. "Well, we're dating."

Mr. Matthews, who had taken a bite after Cory started talking, made a choking noise. Amy looked a bit surprised, but not blown away. Shawn took this as a good sign.

"You're ... dating?" asked Mr. Matthews. "When did that happen?"

"11 days ago," said Cory. "But we've felt this way for a long time."

"But Cory, you were with Topanga for _years_," Mr. Matthews said, still sounding as though he didn't quite believe his son. "And Shawn, you've had more girlfriends than any of us could count." He chuckled, though he didn't seem amused.

"Yeah, well, sometimes, there are exceptions," said Cory. "Dad, you know Shawn and I care about each other more than we care about anyone else. That's always been true. This can't actually surprise you that much. Mom's not surprised. Right, Mom?"

Mrs. Matthews shook her head. "He's right, Alan. Honestly, you two, I expected this to happen much sooner."

"You never told me that, Amy," said Mr. Matthews. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've been more ready for ... this."

"Do you have a problem with it?" Cory asked his father.

"Oh, Cory, for God's sake, you know I don't have a problem with ... gayness," Mr. Matthews said. "It's just that you're my son, and I thought you ... I thought you were straight."

"Exceptions, Dad."

"You understand why this catches me off guard, right? Shawn?"

"Well, yes, of course, Mr. Matthews," said Shawn, trying to sound more self-assured than he was. "And I understand if you noticed ... anything between Cory and me and passed it off as us being best friends, not something else."

Mr. Matthews' cheeks reddened, but he nodded. "Please know that if I take some ... adjusting to this, it has nothing to do with how I feel about you. I know how much you care about Cory. And I know he's in good hands with you." Mr. Matthews looked a bit embarrassed by his choice of words. Shawn ignored that, stood, and walked over to Mr. Matthews at the opposite side of the table. They shook hands, and the older man managed a weary smile.

"You don't have a problem with this, do you, Mom?" Cory asked Mrs. Matthews. She shook her head.

"You know I love you, Cory. And you know I love you, too, Shawn. And if you love each other, well, no one's going to be able to stop you." She smiled at both of them, and Shawn let himself smile for the first time since before the conversation started.

"Well, that went well, didn't it?" asked Morgan, which successfully broke the tension that had settled over the table. The night progressed as it normally would, though Mr. Matthews' jaw was set a little tighter than usual, and Mrs. Matthews was sending him far more warning looks. They were particularly common whenever Shawn and Cory so much as stood next to each other or laughed at a comment the other made. So the situation, it seemed, wasn't something that Shawn could call perfect, but it was about as good as expected, and for now, that was going to have to be good enough.

"That was OK. That was good," said Shawn on the way home.

Cory shook his head. "Was it? I don't know. I just feel awful."

"About how your dad feels?"

"No, about how he made you feel by feeling that way," said Cory. "I saw your face when he found out. You wanted him to be happy, even though you knew he wouldn't be."

"It's good enough, Cor." Shawn looked out the window for a minute or two before fixing his gaze on Cory again. "We knew it wasn't going to be perfect. And at least your mom took it well."

"I wouldn't say she took it well. She took it as something she can't change. She took it as something she had to accept. Like a hard truth. Like evil exists and in some countries, people eat dogs."

Shawn laughed. "No. No, she didn't. Your mom is one of the kindest people I've ever met. And she showed that again tonight."

"She's pretty great, isn't she?"

"She is. Hey, did you ever realize that your parents treat me pretty much exactly how they treat you and Eric?"

"Yeah, well, you're basically their kid, too," Cory said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I've heard them talking about it when they thought I wasn't listening, how glad they are that we have each other, what a good kid you turned out to be, that whole thing."

"They're glad we have each other?"

"They always have been."

"So maybe, in time, your dad will be happy we have each other like this?" Shawn put his hand on Cory's leg. Cory glanced away from the road to turn and smile at Shawn.

"Yeah," Cory said softly. "I think he will."

On arriving back at their apartment, Shawn and Cory headed for their room with a bottle of wine and two plastic cups.

"So classy," said Shawn, giving Cory a crooked grin.

"We always are," Cory said. "_The Spy Who Loved Me_?"

"Queue it up."

Sipping their wine, they curled up together beneath the sheets, occasionally pressing a kiss to the other's head or hand. Neither Shawn nor Cory had said "I love you" since their relationship began, though the terms "lovers" and "making love" had come up more than once. Until now, Shawn wasn't sure what it would take for one of them to use that phrase, one that had never carried so much weight for him as it did now. He'd thought about saying it time and again, after sex, before work, over dinner, or sometime in between. But hadn't had what he thought might be an ideal moment until now.

Shawn paused the movie. "Cory?"

"Yeah?" Cory sounded tired, and Shawn considered holding back for the time being, but the consideration didn't last long.

"After tonight, telling your parents, reacting together, being strong..." He laughed nervously. "God, this sounds so cheesy. But I thought I should say that I love you, Cory. I love you that way."

Cory looked surprised and ecstatic, a reaction which satisfied Shawn. "I love you too, Shawn. I've just been waiting, you know."

"I know. So have I."

"But you're right. Now's right. This is right."

"Got that right," Shawn said with a smile.

Cory, whose face was already turned toward Shawn's, leaned in for a kiss. Shawn knew what that would lead to, and he accepted it gratefully. It didn't take long for making out to lead to what could now be called lovemaking with confidence, and while he knew the first would always be the best, Shawn also acknowledged that this was locking up second place. He fell asleep, fully satisfied, afterward, with the most horrifying, intriguing, thrilling thoughts running through his head, thoughts of tuxedos and flowers and recitations of words of love taken from well worn notebooks and paper napkins.

"You are the only person I'll ever love," he whispered to Cory, dead asleep, and he could've sworn he saw his boyfriend's lips twitch into a smile.


	12. The Somewhere Out There

"_An American Tail_?" Shawn blinked at Cory, who nodded excitedly. "Really?"

"Come on, Shawnie, we loved it when we were kids."

"_You _loved it when we were kids," said Shawn. "I said it was gay, and Topanga's sister gave me a talk about tolerance and word usage."

Cory laughed. "See, it's funny, 'cause we're gay."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "For each other."

"Exceptions."

"They prove the rule."

"Or something. You remember that, though? Nebula giving you a talk about something?"

"Well, yeah," Shawn said. "You were there." Cory looked at him blankly. He sighed and continued, "It's like this. Some of my childhood wasn't so happy, right?" Cory put his hand on Shawn's leg. Shawn smiled. "But it was OK. Because I had you. So I kind of, I don't know, compartmentalize. This over here, this memory has Cory, so I'll keep it. This one, it's dominated by Verna, so I'll put it away and block it out, and hopefully I never have to think about it again."

"So, if I was there, you remember it?" Cory asked slowly.

"More or less, yeah."

"Shawn, I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Well, I love you," Shawn said, running his hand along Cory's face. He kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. "And even if it wasn't always, you know, romantic, I still did. Since the beginning."

"I love you, too," said Cory. "I loved you, I love you now, and I'm not going to stop."

"God, we're goopy sometimes," Shawn said. He laughed, and Cory smiled as he leaned in for a kiss. Predictably, it turned into another, and then another, before Cory, who'd been pinned down by Shawn, said, "Hey, weren't we going to watch the movie?"

"You'd rather watch a movie about a poorly animated mouse than have sex?" Shawn asked, dubious.

"He's not poorly animated," said Cory, sounding defensive. "And he's not just any mouse. He's an immigrant mouse."

Shawn looked at Cory, cocking his head, before bursting out laughing. After a beat, so did Cory.

"I guess you have a good point," said Cory. "But after?"

"Yeah, whatever, we'll watch the damn movie, so long as you'll let me get on you."

Cory laughed again as he brought his lips to Shawn's. Initially, sex had been a nightly ritual for the two of them. It was as though they'd had to stave off the tension for so long that they couldn't hold back. They had to drain each other of this dormant lust, this pent up desire, and it required at least a little bit of action every day. But now, they'd cooled off. They'd been together a few months, and they'd settled into a comfortable routine. Sure, they'd cuddle, and maybe they'd make out, but at least a couple nights a week, they'd drift off to sleep with their arms slung across each other before anything sexual happened.

However, that night was one of those nights that seemed to require lovemaking. It was a Friday, and both Shawn and Cory felt that they in some sense deserved the pleasure. It was a busy time at Shawn's agency, and Cory had just been promoted to a paralegal position, so both his pay and workload had increased. They were tired, but that was never really an issue when it came to sex. They could soldier through it. It was always worth it.

"It's been three months and this is still so perfect," Shawn said. Cory was still lying on top of him, and both were sticky with sweat but content to remain that way, so long as Cory stayed where he was and Shawn's arms remained around him. "How does that even work?"

"Well, you know," said Cory. "True love, that kind of thing. Plus, I have to say, Shawnie, you're an animal."

Shawn laughed. "Only with you, man. Angela was never as satisfied as you are."

"Were you holding back?"

"Probably." Shawn ran his hand through Cory's hair, which was surprisingly soft for looking so ... solid. "I really was attracted to her. But she never seemed, I don't know, in it for the long haul."

"Not like me, then." Cory ran his hand along Shawn's arm, and even after months of similar physical contact, Shawn still had to hold back from shivering.

"Not like you." Shawn kissed Cory, who kissed back, almost so intensely that Shawn thought he might be up for another round. But that wasn't Cory's style. Cory liked taking it slow after sex, watching TV and curling up together, maybe with a bowl of Cheez-Its nearby. And Shawn liked that, too, though it hadn't always been that way. Once he and Cory tried post-coital relaxation the first few times, though, he'd grown to enjoy it, innocent touching and reruns of all manner of _Law & Order._ Anytime with Cory, Shawn decided, was a good time. It had always been true, and it was likely to remain that way.

"Just so you know, I'm not attached to the idea of watching the movie," said Cory.

"Good, because I'm way too comfortable to go all the way to the TV. And I bet you are, too."

"Shawn?" Cory hesitated. "Do you ever—never mind."

"What?"

"No, it's nothing."

"What, Cory?" Shawn asked, impatient.

"It's not a good time."

"How is this not a good time for any conversation?" Shawn kissed Cory on the forehead. "We're happy and comfy and still totally in the afterglow zone."

"Well, I don't know if there's ever going to be a good time, I guess." Cory traced circles around the freckles on Shawn's shoulders with his fingertip. "It's just ... I've been wondering. About the long term."

"Yeah?" Shawn worked to keep his voice steady. "What have you been wondering, exactly?"

"I think you already know." Cory looked at Shawn, seriousness in his expression. Shawn tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the hazel flecks in his boyfriend's eyes. "Shawn," Cory went on, "do you ever want to, you know, get married?"

Though Shawn had sensed it was coming, he was still convinced that his heart ceased to beat before it sped up to double time. "I ... I would lie and say I haven't thought about it, but I don't want to lie to you. So, yeah, I guess I have."

"Have you thought about it a lot?" Cory studied Shawn. Shawn felt like squirming but refrained.

"Yeah," Shawn said, his voice softer than intended. "Yeah, I have."

"So have I." Cory cleared his throat. "And I think, whether it's legal or not, that we should."

"Are you ... proposing?"

"Not really. I'm just saying it's something I want to do eventually. And I want to know if it's something you want to do, too."

"You have balls, Cory."

Cory smiled. "I know. Is it? Something you want?"

"Of course it is."

Cory's smile grew wider. "That's what I wanted to hear." They kissed, and Shawn was reminded of just how much he couldn't get enough of Cory.

"I know we don't usually do it twice," Shawn said. "But I feel like that deserves, you know, something."

"Blow jobs?"

Shawn grinned. "I can live with that."

It wasn't the most innocent of nights until the close, when Cory fell asleep beneath Shawn, still clutching at his hand.

"You're my best friend," Shawn whispered. "And I love you. And I'm going to marry you someday."

Despite the gravity of the conversation, there was no dramatic change in Shawn's relationship with Cory after that. Things progressed as usual, with the two of them making new friends through work, spending time with Griffin and his boyfriend, and occasionally meeting up with the Matthews. Gradually, Mr. Matthews was growing more accustomed to looking at Shawn as his son's boyfriend and best friend. He and Mrs. Matthews had even asked Shawn to call them by their first names, despite his having not done so for 20-odd years. Of course, Shawn and Cory didn't tell the Matthews they'd discussed the idea of marriage. There was such a thing as too much too soon.

Shawn hadn't told Cory another thing: he'd begun looking at jobs in Boston. Though Cory had said he'd be completely comfortable with whatever they could get, whether it was a pair of rings, a marriage license, or somewhere in between, Shawn highly preferred the idea of making it official. Such as it was, gay marriage, civil unions, and domestic partnerships didn't exist in Pennsylvania, and however much either of them loved their home state, that wasn't something Shawn wanted to deal with in the long term.

He didn't know how much longer he could go without sharing his job search with Cory. It would be easier with someone to support him. Hell, it would be easier if he knew whether Cory supported the idea of living in Boston at all. It occurred to Shawn that he could simply ask. But that didn't seem weighty enough. This was something that mattered. And so it necessitated some kind of circumstance.

Circumstance came one night in December, after Christmas and before New Year's. Shawn and Cory had enough money saved up that they could take a week off for the holiday, and they were spending it at the Matthews' house. So was Eric, who'd landed a job working outdoor construction in the summer and crunching numbers for the same company in the winter. He'd met a girl named Holly, who joined the family for a dinner or two over the course of the week. It was obvious to Shawn that Eric had never actually cared about a girl the way he did about this one. It wasn't just the over the top chivalry and pulled out chairs and folded napkins. It was the way he couldn't say her name without smiling, the way he checked to make sure she laughed at his jokes and how hard he tried to make her laugh, too, and how intently he listened to everything she said, including such gems as "I'm hungry" and "It's getting late." Eric, as unlikely as it may have seemed, was in love. And everyone was glad to see it.

The tension surrounding the nature of Shawn and Cory's relationship had yet to diffuse entirely, but things had gotten much better. Cory told Shawn that his father had actually asked how everything was going between them, and Amy asked Shawn the same question when he offered her a hand in the kitchen before Christmas dinner. Meanwhile, Morgan still couldn't stop grinning at the two of them whenever she caught them holding hands, and Joshua ... well, Joshua just seemed happy to be alive and didn't appear to understand what "gay" meant. That, Shawn counted as a blessing.

Shawn and Cory were staying in Cory and Eric's old room again, while Eric had graciously offered to take the living room and "give them their space." He'd winked when he said that, a solid reminder that even if Eric was in love, no fundamental changes had occurred. Every night, Cory caught up on Harry Potter while Shawn caught up on reading in general. He never seemed to find the time to read for pleasure anymore, so this week felt like seven days full of fresh literary air. He was devouring _Midnight's Children _when Cory walked in that one night.

"Morgan cracks me up," Cory said. He was holding a sheet of loose-leaf paper. "She made us a list of all the states that allow gay marriage, domestic partnerships, or civil unions." Cory looked down at the list. "Of course, it can't be too comprehensive, considering the state of our country. We've only got Massachusetts if we want to go all the way to the altar."

"Yeah?" Shawn recognized this as circumstance. "Well, Massachusetts isn't all that bad, right? I mean, Boston, history, only a six hour drive..."

Cory took off his clothes, leaving on his boxers, and eased himself into bed next to Shawn. Curling up against him, Cory said, "Interesting that you know how many hours it takes to get to Boston off the top of your head."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with trivial knowledge," said Shawn, putting away _Midnight's Children _and looking at Cory. "Boston's not a bad place, you know. Jonathan and I went there once."

"Really?"

Shawn nodded. "Random road trip one summer. Only for a few days, but it was really cool."

"You're keeping me on the topic of Boston for a little while here, Shawnie," Cory said. "And you have that cute little look on your face like there's something else you want to say but you haven't figured out the prettiest way to say it."

Shawn laughed. "I have that look? It happens often enough?"

"You're very good at being careful about what you say," said Cory, pushing some stray hairs out of Shawn's face and kissing him on the forehead. "What's going on?"

"I want to move to Boston," Shawn blurted out.

"You do?" Cory asked. He didn't sound upset or even too taken aback, but there was confusion in his voice.

"I do," said Shawn. "I ... there's a job opening at one of Colwyn's other offices. It's a higher position than what I have now, but I think I could do it. I know I could do it. And if you wanted to take a break from working, I'd be getting paid enough if I got it that you wouldn't have to."

"When did you decide this?" Cory took Shawn's hands in his. He didn't seem upset, which Shawn took as a good sign.

"I don't know, Cor. I've been looking for a month or two, but I didn't really become convinced it was a good idea till ... well, remember when we watched _Four Weddings and a Funeral_?"

Cory mock shuddered. "Awful."

"Terrible," Shawn agreed. "But that was a couple weeks ago, right? I was just thinking, watching people prepare for that kind of thing, I don't know why we couldn't do that. You know?"

"I know. And I know I've said I don't care, but..." Cory paused and kissed Shawn, then said, "I want that, too. I always have. I think ... I think that's the only reason I said yes to Topanga. And this time it's different. This time, I asked you first."

They kissed again, and after breaking it off, Shawn said, "So. How do you feel about Boston?"

"Well, if I'm with you, I think I'll feel fine," said Cory. "But I'm also thinking that maybe I should see it first."


	13. The Thoughts That Count

"I..." Thud. "Am going..." Thud, thud, thud. "To kill you." Cory took a deep breath and sat down right on the 294th step of the Bunker Hill monument.

Shawn laughed and dragged him by the hand to the viewpoint. "You said you wanted to see Boston. This is how to see it."

"Alright, I guess that is pretty gorgeous," Cory relented, looking out at the city. "What can we see from here?"

"Everything," said Shawn, interlacing his fingers with Cory's. They stepped out to the edge together, and while Shawn was aware of a visiting family's eyes on them, he didn't care. Neither he nor Cory had ever been much for public displays of affection, but they were on vacation somewhere they might get married someday, and that seemed as good a reason for holding hands as any.

"How come no one told me Boston was so, I don't know, awesome?" asked Cory.

"I did. In December. We just had to wait till we both had the balls to ask for time off."

"Well, four months isn't _that _long."

Shawn squeezed Cory's hand. "April feels pretty perfect for me."

"Why do you have to do that?"

"What?"

"Make me want to kiss you in front of small children."

Shawn laughed. "I'm just that charming, I guess. Where did you want to go next?"

"Somewhere with food. Preferably a lot of it."

"Well, I saw a Thai place near our hotel."

"You don't even have to phrase that as a suggestion, Shawnie," said Cory. "Let's go."

Perhaps too many bowls of spicy pad Thai and drunken noodles later, the two of them headed back to their hotel.

"You know, we've been here four days and we haven't done anything in the way of ... deciding," Cory said. He and Shawn were on the bed, and Cory's legs were draped across Shawn's—distractingly so, but Shawn didn't want to say so out loud. Yet.

"Deciding? What are we deciding?" asked Shawn, feigning ignorance.

"You're not very good at pretending you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, you're not very good at keeping your ... physical ... self away from me when you want to have a serious discussion," Shawn pointed out, struggling not to blush as he gestured at Cory's legs on his.

Cory laughed. "Give me a couple minutes, OK?"

"I'll try."

"It's like this. You had your interview. It went well. They offered you a position starting in September."

"Yes. All of that occurred."

"We went to three different apartment buildings and found two different very real possibilities."

"And a live chicken under the sink in the third."

"We went to a temp agency and found out that it would be conceivable for me to get a job within a 20 mile radius of the city center."

"So what you're saying is good things are happening?"

Cory rubbed his foot against Shawn's. "Yeah. That's what I'm saying. And that we haven't talked about how good they are."

"Well, I've made no secret of how I feel about moving here, Cory. But I want you to be sure, too."

"You still want to move here?"

Shawn nodded. "More than ever. But it's obvious that I would want to, isn't it? New job, new place, gay, gay, gay..."

Cory laughed.

"I'm just wondering what's in it for you."

"You kidding? You, Shawn. You're here. Or, at least, you're going to be. And I want to be here with you."

"How am I not kissing you already?"

"I don't think there's any justification for that." Cory leaned toward Shawn and kissed him once before Shawn cut him off.

"So we're moving, then?"

"Yeah." Another kiss, and Shawn interrupted it again, this time with "In the fall?"

"Yeah." And a third, to which Shawn replied, "You sure?"

"Shut up, Shawn."

And he did.

Sleep came easy that night, which was fortunate, considering the early morning plane ride they had in store for them. Even if Shawn had the opportunity to sleep later, he still wouldn't have taken it. He was too excited now, too ready to get back and make some forever plans. But his excitement was curtailed upon his and Cory's return.

"Hey, we actually have mail," said Cory, taking a handful of letters and a single magazine out of their box. "You have the key for the actual apartment? Because I definitely don't."

"You're a bright one." Shawn strode up the stairs and unlocked the apartment. "Anything interesting?"

Cory dropped his duffel on the floor and shuffled through the stack of mail. "Bill, bill, literary magazine that even you wouldn't read, subscription update for said literary magazine, letter from Jack and Rachel, presumably a form, and, yes, there is something interesting." Cory tossed the final piece to Shawn. "Looks like Angela's handwriting."

Shawn put his bag down and sat on the love seat, patting the empty space next to him. Cory settled in next to Shawn and peered over his shoulder.

"Oh. She ... yeah, this isn't great." Shawn put the letter down on the coffee table in front of him. Cory picked it up, his lips moving as he read the words Shawn had just sped through.

"Am I reading this right?" Cory asked. "Angela's coming back to Philly? And Angela wonders if you're still interested in pursuing a relationship?"

"That's about the gist of it."

Cory put down the letter. "Shawn..."

"I broke up with her. She knew—she knows I wanted you, not her. Why would she do this? Why now?"

"Well, you're not an easy guy to get over." Cory smiled crookedly and put his hand over Shawn's. "You're right. She knows. And that'll make it easier for her when you write her back and tell her about us."

"Writing her back doesn't seem like a super fun thing to do."

"But you should."

"I know," Shawn said grudgingly.

"And you will."

"I will?"

"Yes," said Cory. "And you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you're a good person." Cory leaned over and kissed Shawn on the top of his head. "And you love Angela. Not as much as you love me, but you know, enough that you'll do her the courtesy of responding."

"Even if it breaks her heart?"

"Even then." Cory picked up the letter from Jack and Rachel and opened it, putting it back down immediately after seeing its contents. "You might want to take a break before—"

Shawn picked the letter back up. As soon as he saw the word "married," down it went again.

"He did it again," Shawn said, raking a hand through his hair and recoiling slightly when Cory leaned over. He relented as Cory put both arms around him. "He did it again, Cor." Shawn leaned against Cory, struggling hard not to break down.

"You can cry." Cory's voice was barely above a whisper. "If you can cry with anyone, you can cry with me."

Shawn let a tear or two escape.

"Really. I love you. You know that. And if there was ever a shitty way to end a great week..." Cory laughed shakily. Shawn sniffed and allowed the tears to flow, though his shoulders shook from laughing, too.

"We're pretty weird, Cory."

"You sure Jack didn't call or something?"

"I had my phone with me, remember?"

"I thought things had gotten better, too."

"So had I." Shawn looked at Cory. "Well, in a way, they have. In a lot of ways, they have. I think this would've felt a lot worse a few years back." He rested his forehead against Cory's. "So, I have that."

"And you're not going to lose it, Shawn." Cory pressed his lips to Shawn's, quickly, forcefully. "You never are."

"Aren't you exhausted?" Shawn asked, laughing a little.

"Has that ever mattered?"

"Well, that's a good point."


	14. The Ex Factor

**A/N: If you were wondering about Jack and Rachel, this should provide enough explanation.**

Shawn never lied to Cory, unless you counted the whole "I've loved you for years and pretended not to" thing, and that was long since over. By the time Angela came back to the States, he and Cory had been together for over a year and were frantically preparing for their upcoming move to Boston. They'd settled on the first place they'd looked at in the city. The one bedroom apartment wasn't quite the size they were used to, but it wasn't what you'd call cramped or even cozy. There was room enough for two, and that was more than enough for them.

So when Shawn got the letter from Angela, and Cory told him he should write back, Shawn knew he would have to, even though he'd rather organize his socks by color and level of wear or, worse, respond to the hastily scrawled "Want to be my best man?" at the bottom of Jack and Rachel's newsletter. Cory agreed with Shawn there: Jack's half-assed attempt at flattery didn't deserve a reply, no matter how curious it was that Jack was both back in Nigeria and with Rachel. However, Cory never said _when _he had to write Angela. So he took his time. April was the cruelest month, right? So he'd hold on to his cruelty at least until May. And if he was assigned six new clients in the month of May at the agency, well, he wouldn't be writing anything but e-mails, e-mails, and a few more e-mails. And June and July, those weren't confrontational or confessional months. Those were just filled with pretty weather days and calling in sick because he might as well phone it in, he'd be gone by fall anyway. Angela was slated to come back at the end of August. So if he sent a letter at the beginning, or even in the middle, of that month, that should be good enough. Right? _Well_, Shawn thought as he dropped the letter in the box on the 14th, _it's going to have to be_.

Although Shawn gave his number in the letter, as Cory urged him to do, he didn't hear a word from Angela until two weeks later, and then, it wasn't a word so much as a loud knock, just loud enough to cut through the noise of Cory's and his own laughter as he showed Shawn a "neat trick" he'd learned from something he'd seen on the Internet.

"What kind of sites are you browsing?" Shawn zipped his pants and rummaged around on the floor for a shirt. "And is this on company time?"

"Hey, I have to find something to do in that hour before you get home. Ordering takeout only takes so long. Is that the door?"

"Yeah. That's why I'm getting dressed."

"I thought you were just passive aggressively turning me down." Cory mock pouted.

"You stay in here unless you're willing to put some clothes on. And quit making that face. You know it drives me crazy when you make that face."

Cory smirked and exaggeratedly blew a kiss to Shawn, who rolled his eyes and walked to the entryway. He swung open the door, and there stood Angela, with dreaded hair, thick-framed glasses, and a sad sort of smile.

"Hi, Shawn," she said, with none of the vibrancy he remembered. "Do I get a hug?"

"Angela," said Shawn, complying and opening his arms to her. She stepped in and squeezed him tightly, maybe too tightly, before letting go and taking a step back again.

"I hope you're not busy," Angela said.

"Oh, no, come in," said Shawn, feeling more awkward than he had in ... well, how long had he and Cory been a couple? Sometime before that, he'd probably felt more awkward than this. Probably. Maybe. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that his ex-girlfriend was now sitting on his couch, his and Cory's sofa, the love seat that belonged to him and his boyfriend. And she looked about as uncomfortable as he felt.

Shawn settled down next to Angela. "So, you're back," he said, impressed at the lack of shakiness in his voice. "How long have you been around here?"

"Well, if you're meaning here as in 'near the college,' then only about seven minutes," she said wryly, and Shawn caught his first glimpse of the Angela he remembered. "But I've been back in Philly since Sunday."

"Have you seen anyone?"

"Well, Topanga's living at home. Did you know that?" Angela studied him. She hadn't lost the ability to gaze piercingly, Shawn noted.

"No. I didn't. She ... we ... I haven't seen her since the end of sophomore year," he said. "That was the last time you saw her, right?"

Angela nodded. "Before coming back, yeah. I had dinner with her and her family. Nebula's married."

"That's cool."

"And Topanga is kind of ... how do I say this nicely?" She pursed her lips together. "OK, I won't. Topanga's a wreck. She has this degree in gender and sexuality studies that she can't do a damn thing with, her lady bits are swimming with STDs, and she talks about _General Hospital _like she's a frigging LPN there."

Shawn couldn't stop laughing by the end of the description, and neither could Angela. But when she spoke again, her tone turned serious.

"I got your letter. I didn't want to write back. I thought seeing you would make it—" She paused. "Well, not easier. But ... better. More cathartic, I guess."

"You need catharsis?"

"I always knew this was going to happen, Shawn," she said, looking down. "I just didn't know how I'd feel when it actually did."

"Angela, you know it has nothing to do with you, right?" Shawn tried to laugh. "You didn't turn me gay or something. Because I'm not. It's just him. It's always been him."

"I know. I knew. I always did."

"Even when we started dating?"

Angela nodded. "I don't think either of you had realized it at that point."

"That's probably not entirely true," said Shawn, thinking of the night on the playground. "But neither of us really acknowledged it till, well, it's been over a year now, but it was before that."

Angela nodded again. "It didn't hurt, really, reading that you were together. It was more ... the intimacy, I guess."

"How do you mean?"

"You live together. You're moving together. When you wrote about yourself in the letter, you could practically tell how hard it was for you to use 'I' instead of 'we.' He's the most important part of your life now, Shawn. And I ... I never got to be." Angela looked over her shoulder and said, "Cory, you can quit eavesdropping and come out here."

Cory looked sheepish as he emerged from the bedroom in rumpled clothing, including a beat up t-shirt of Shawn's from high school that Shawn was sure Angela would recognize. Cory lifted his hand in a wave before Angela stood and pulled him into a tight hug. Shawn smiled as he watched Cory relax, his embarrassed expression gone and replaced with a wide smile.

"Do I apologize?" Cory asked Angela.

Angela shook her head. "Of course not. If anyone should, it's me. I stole your man."

"I got him now." Cory looked at Shawn and grinned goofily as both he and Angela sat down on the now cramped love seat.

"Anyway," said Angela. "I met a guy in Europe. Jens. He was a lot like you, Shawn, just Swedish instead."

"Sounds hot," said Cory. Shawn smacked him on the arm.

"And we had this fling that didn't feel like it was supposed to last. But I was lonely, and he was horny, so it did." Angela smirked. "I wrote you two days after we broke up. I guess I just wanted to feel wanted and I thought you were a good place to start." She paused and cocked her head, looking as though she was avoiding Cory's eyes as she said, "I think I knew that wasn't going to happen. But it felt like it was worth a try. So I'm here again. And I know about you. And your happiness, I guess it's going to have to be good enough for now."

Both Shawn and Cory slung an arm around Angela, who wasn't quite crying, but nearly there. She kissed them each on the cheek in turn, then said, "But enough about me. Did you get a letter from Jack and Rachel? What's going on there?"

Cory opened his mouth to speak, but Shawn looked over Angela's head and mouthed "No." He knew both Cory and Angela well enough to know that Cory wanted to keep talking about Angela, and that Angela wanted to get as far from the subject as possible. Since he was the one who'd hurt Angela—twice—Shawn felt it was his duty to tend to her, not Cory, for once. Cory nodded and mouthed back, "I love you." Shawn shook his head, pointed to Cory, and held up two fingers.

"We called Eric after we got the letter," said Shawn, hoping the whole exchange hadn't taken a suspiciously long amount of time. "He's the only person who's been keeping in touch with Jack."

"Jack was at med school in Pittsburgh," Cory said. "And he and Eric got together on occasion. Then, a couple months ago, Eric got this really weird phone call from Jack, all garbled, like an old movie or something, and Jack was saying he'd made a mistake and he was back in Africa, trying to woo Rachel."

"He used the word 'woo,'" Shawn put in, shaking his head.

"All Eric knows now is that Jack is back with Rachel. He didn't know about the marriage either," finished Cory.

"Wow. That's ... something," said Angela.

"He asked me to be his best man," Shawn said. "And by not responding, I asked him to go fuck himself."

Angela snorted. "So you haven't responded at all?"

"Nope."

"And you didn't tell him to?" Angela turned to Cory.

"No. Jack doesn't deserve that." Cory looked over at Shawn, who would've kissed Cory if his ex-girlfriend weren't still sandwiched between them.

"But I did, so you made him do that," Angela said with a smirk.

Cory nodded. "You know him well."

"You know him better." Angela smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You always have."

Silence settled over the room, and not a comfortable one. It felt like an hour, but was probably more like half a minute, before Angela stood up and said she'd better get going. When the door shut behind her, Shawn and Cory moved closer to each other, and Cory kissed Shawn. It was harder than usual, fiercer somehow.

"Whoa." Shawn pulled away slightly. "What's up? Is something wrong?"

"No, I just..." Cory shook his head. "I don't know. Seeing the way she looks at you ... It's just weird for me, OK? And I wanted to remind you ... who you picked. Who you love."

"Cor, do you really think I'd forget?" Shawn leaned forward again, brushing his lips against Cory's forehead. "Weren't you listening to me earlier? It's you. That's not going to change anytime soon."

"I know. It's just, well, what if Topanga wrote me and said the same things Angela did? And what if Topanga showed up all sad and bespectacled and dread-headed?"

"I guess ... I'd feel like you do."

"Right."

"And that'd be pretty shitty."

"Right."

"And I'd want to fuck you."

Cory smiled for the first time since Angela left. "I probably would've said 'made love,' but sure. And you know what? No. I thought that's what I wanted, but it's not. I just want to hold you and say stuff so mushy you wouldn't even write it in one of those secret poems you sometimes put under the bathroom door while I'm showering."

"Hey, I'm not that over the top," said Shawn. "I mean, yeah, that happens sometimes, but those poems are not mushy. Sentimental, maybe, but not mushy."

"Whatever you say, Shawnie." Cory put his arms around Shawn and held him tightly. "Whatever you say."


	15. The Idea

"Is this weird for you?"

"What?"

Shawn turned to face Cory, who was grinning in a way best described as dopey. Till that moment, Cory had been curled up against him.

"Well..." Shawn gestured to Cory, then to himself. "We're naked."

"Yes," said Cory. "We often are."

"But this is different."

"Is it?"

"Well, yeah," Shawn said. "Because, I don't know if you noticed, but this is your parents' house, and we're in the bedroom you slept in till you were 17."

Cory looked around as if he were noticing his surroundings for the first time. His eyes passed over a Carmen Electra poster hung next to a haphazard collage of photos from high school.

"So it is," he said. "And your point?"

"I don't know. Normally, when we're, you know—"

Cory grinned. "Post-coital?"

Shawn shushed him.

"Wait, it was OK to talk about nudity, but not sex?"

Shawn shushed him again before laughing. "OK. OK. I see your point. But don't you see mine?"

"I guess it's not the most normal thing in the world," said Cory, leaning forward slightly to kiss Shawn on the forehead. "But weird doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"I guess you're right," Shawn said as he flipped over and allowed Cory to curl around him again. It was 2:30 in the morning on the 23rd of December, a Sunday. Shawn and Cory had spent their Friday driving from Boston to Philadelphia. Both had taken the week off—Shawn from his publicity assistant job, and Cory from his temporary gig at a big deal law firm—so they could spend some quality time at the Matthews home for the holidays.

"Should we sleep or something?" Cory asked, his breath tickling Shawn's ear. "I mean, Mom's probably making waffles at 9, and Dad'll want us to help shovel the walk even earlier than that."

"He can have Joshua do that."

"Joshua's, like, 7."

"You don't even know how old your brother is?"

Cory paused. "No. I don't."

Shawn laughed. "I guess that's fair. He's pretty young. Well, Eric, then. He's the strong one."

"True. But he also has a girl to pay attention to."

"Not just a girl. A fiancée." Eric had proposed to Holly on Halloween, the anniversary of their first date. They planned on getting married within a year.

"You jealous?"

"No," said Shawn, who was still a bit surprised at himself for not envying Eric's normal heterosexual relationship. "Are you?"

"No. And I feel like I should be."

"Same." Shawn sighed and kneaded Cory's arms, which were draped around him, with his fingertips. "Maybe I'm just overwhelmed with gratefulness for the normalness they're giving your parents."

"Shawnie..." Cory kissed Shawn's neck, lightly, just once, before speaking again. "They're happier now. They're more used to it now. I can tell. They've had a while."

"Even your dad?" Shawn had noticed a change, but he wondered if he'd created it and was just projecting onto the Matthews'.

"Yes. Even Dad."

"Quit calling him that. Say 'my dad' or something. I'm not ready to refer to your father as my father."

"Are you saying you will be?" Cory's tone was teasing.

"Cor, you already know the answer."

"But I haven't asked."

"And you can take as long as you want." Shawn looked at the clock. "It's almost three. We should sleep."

"I'll tell Mom—my mom—that you're nursing a cold and you can't shovel."

"I can shovel. I'm an excellent shoveler."

"I'm sure you are."

"Shut up."

"Love you too, sweetheart."

As far as Shawn could tell, it was the best Christmas he'd had with the Matthews family yet. Sure, Eric and Holly were a bit over the top in their affection, and Joshua was getting brattier with every passing year, but Alan and Amy were kind to Shawn and Cory, reiterating how glad they were that the two of them had each other.

"I don't think Cory would try so hard if it weren't for you, Shawn," said Amy as Shawn helped her wash the dishes after Christmas dinner.

"I'm sure the RC car helped, too," Shawn said with a grin. No matter how old they got, Cory's presents tended to look a lot like Joshua's.

Amy laughed. "I mean it, though. You help him. You show him what hard work can do." Amy put down the bowl she was cleaning and put her hand on Shawn's forearm. Squeezing slightly, she said, "Look where you came from. Look where you are now. And it's to no one's credit but your own."

Shawn swallowed hard and blinked back a pesky tear or two. "Thanks, Amy."

She smiled. "You know we love you, right?"

"You couldn't be clearer."

Granted, that increased closeness to the Matthews parents made it so Shawn and Cory got less time to themselves—thus the need for nakedness when an appropriate situation did arise. But it didn't get to Shawn too much. He had Cory to himself most of the time. He might as well let the guy out of his sight when there was family around.

And he did, for the most part, until the night before they'd scheduled themselves to leave. It was the 27th, a Thursday about as picturesque as a December night could be. After dessert and drinks, Shawn and Cory excused themselves to the screened in porch Alan and Eric had built over the summer. They settled into a loveseat not unlike the one in their apartment. As their fingers interlaced, Shawn admired the Feeny-less view of the backyard, where snow was drifting lazily downward, slowly but surely blanketing the ground.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" said Cory softly.

"Yeah," Shawn said. "It really is. This was a good idea."

Cory smiled. He moved his hand away from Shawn's and put his arm around him instead. "Eric and my dad building the porch, or sitting in it?"

"Both, I guess." Shawn leaned his head against Cory's shoulder.

"Hey, Shawnie," said Cory. "Question for you."

"Yeah?"

"Now, I'm just spitballing here."

"OK."

"It's just an idea."

"OK," said Shawn, more slowly.

"So if you don't like it, just say so, OK?"

"Geez, Cory, just spit it out."

"Would you like to marry me?"

Shawn shook his head and sputtered a bit, not quite sure how to speak for a moment as Cory rummaged around in his pants pocket and pulled out a little velvet box.

"See, there's one for both of us," said Cory, opening the box to reveal two simple silver bands. In the faint light reflecting off the snow, Shawn could see their initials intertwined on each ring.

Cory took Shawn's hand and poised one of the rings over Shawn's finger. "I love you, Shawn Hunter. And if it's OK with you, I'd like to keep showing you that for the rest of your life."

"Yes," Shawn choked out.

Cory laughed softly. "You could put the other one on me, you know. Do you like them?"

"I love them." After sliding the other ring onto Cory's finger, Shawn took Cory's face in his hands and kissed him, trying for a balance of delicate and passionate. From Cory's enthusiastic response, Shawn assumed he'd succeeded. "I love you, Cory. I always have."

"I know," said Cory, smiling. "It's a little late to tell anyone tonight. But I think we should in the morning, don't you?"

"Seems a lot easier than when we told them we were dating," Shawn said, smiling back at the man who was no longer his boyfriend. That might take some getting used to. Shawn laced his fingers through Cory's, running his thumb along Cory's ring.

"Was that smooth enough for you, then?" Cory asked.

Shawn laughed. "Couldn't have been smoother."

"And it's OK that I was the one who did it, right?" Cory sounded concerned.

"I'd always kind of assumed you would be," said Shawn. "Come on, Cor. You know I'm not the romantic one in this relationship."

"Valid point," Cory said. "Now, I was wondering, another idea..."

"Yeah?"

"Want to see what engaged sex feels like?"

Shawn stood and pulled Cory to his feet. Dragging him by the hand, Shawn said, "I don't think I have to say so, but yes. Yes, that's something I want to see."


	16. The Western Front

**A/N: This is longer than I intended it to be, but it seemed necessary, given the subject matter.**

It wasn't nearly as hard as Shawn figured it would be, telling everybody. He pinned this on two things. One, there wasn't a single person he was close to who was anything but happy about his relationship with Cory. And two, "everybody" didn't really include that many people these days. Beyond the Matthews family, Angela, and Griffin and Blake, all Shawn and Cory had were the new friends they'd made in Boston. And that, for them, was a pretty rowdy little crew.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Cory's coworkers at Dale, Hughes, and McCoy were a stuffy bunch, all perfectly friendly people who didn't care about anything but intellectual property law. Cory's direct superior—now permanent, since Cory had been hired in January—seemed to care about one other thing: getting Cory into law school, potentially on the company's dollar. But Cory wasn't particularly interested in law school. He liked being a paralegal, he was good at being a paralegal, and he had no real reason to quit being a paralegal. Though Shawn admitted to himself that it would be pretty sexy to have a lawyer husband in the future, if Cory was happy, so was he, especially if there was a pretty good salary already on hand.

No, instead of Cory's lawyer, paralegal, and legal secretary coworkers, his and Shawn's Boston clique consisted entirely of 20- and 30-somethings employed by Colwyn Literary Agency's East Coast headquarters. The group sometimes seemed so archetypal that Shawn felt as though he were living in a sitcom, complete with token gay guy, friendly office slut, and a "Will they or won't they?" tension wrought pair, among other colorful ... well, characters. He got along well with nearly every one of them, and once Cory came out of his shell enough to join them on a Friday night at a bar, so did he.

Granted, not everything could be sunshine and roses all the time, as Shawn was reminded in April when Jack and Rachel showed up not at his and Cory's apartment, but at his workplace, one otherwise normal Friday afternoon. Shawn was answering a long string of emails from a new client when Leslie Hooper, the administrative assistant and aforementioned slut, knocked on his partially open door.

"Hey, you busy?" she asked.

"Kind of. Not really. Would love a break from this new client."

"Which?"

"Delia Summers."

"Ah, the chick lit queen."

"Yup."

"Rumor has it she changes representation every three months."

"So I've heard."

"So be nice."

"I try." Shawn hit the send button and smiled at Leslie. "You look amazing, by the way."

"Thanks." Leslie twirled around in her not entirely work appropriate sundress. "You're my favorite disconcertingly straight acting gay guy."

"Aw, I'm flattered. What's up, anyway?"

"Oh, yeah. I came her for a reason that wasn't getting compliments." Leslie cocked her head to the side as if searching to remember. "Oh, wait, I got it. It's a guy and a girl at the front desk. Tall redhead and really handsome guy. I checked. He has a ring. Too bad for me. Anyway, they're asking for you."

Shawn sighed, probably one of the deepest sighs he'd sighed since Cory used to pretend not to remember all the things he said while drunk. "That's going to be my brother and his wife."

"Not a fan?"

"I'll try to pretend like I am one." Shawn stood. "Thanks, Leslie. Walk me back, wish me luck?"

"Of course." Leslie linked her arm through Shawn's as they headed toward the front of the building. She let go and patted him on the back when they entered the lobby.

"Hey," Shawn said, more bracingly than intended. "What's going on?"

"What, no hug?" Shawn had to hand it to Rachel: it was really, really hard to pin anything on her, what with her being so cute and smiley and all. He conceded, halfheartedly slinging his arms around her neck as she squeezed him tightly. Stepping back away, Shawn raised a hand in a lame, frozen wave at Jack.

"Did you guys want to have lunch or something? I'm supposed to meet up with Cory in a few minutes at the Thai place a couple blocks away."

"That sounds great," said Rachel, sounding painfully sincere.

"Yeah. That sounds great," Jack echoed. "We'll follow you there."

"I'm walking," said Shawn.

"Oh." Rachel paused. "Then we'll walk with you. Are you leaving now?"

Shawn nodded. "Let me just grab a couple things. Come back to my office with me."

The tension lifted as Shawn introduced Jack and Rachel to a couple of coworkers and showed them around his desk. Shawn was able to carry on a conversation with Rachel the entire walk to Taste of Bangkok. She was just as sweet and genuine as he remembered, and he wondered, not for the first time, why such a nice person would care so much about ... well, how did he even describe Jack? Maybe he would find a way someday. For the time being, he feigned interest in Jack and Rachel's return from Africa and their move to the West Coast.

"We're both at UC-Irvine right now," she said cheerily. "I'm in the nursing master's program and Jack's at the med school."

"Great," said Shawn, meaning it to some extent. "Any particular concentration, Jack?"

"Pediatrics," Jack said, not seeming to notice how thrilled Rachel looked at the prospect of Shawn addressing Jack. "After spending time with the kids in Nigeria, I thought they could use some help. Rachel felt the same. Eventually, I had to go back for her to convince her that going to school somewhere stateside was a good idea. Also, marrying me."

Rachel beamed and Shawn tried his hardest not to scowl. "Did that happen, then?"

"Two weeks ago. At a courthouse. Just Jack and my parents and my sister and me."

"Yup. No groomsmen, nothing like that," Jack added, looking at Shawn pointedly.

"Sounds wonderful," said Shawn. Rachel didn't seem to pick up on his sarcasm, though Shawn was pretty sure Jack did. They reached the restaurant after a moment or two of silence. Shawn had warned Cory via text that Jack and Rachel would be with him when he arrived, but Cory still looked a bit shell shocked as Rachel hugged him, Jack shook his hand, and Shawn, defying their typical rules concerning PDA, kissed him on the cheek.

"That was forward," Cory murmured to Shawn as their heads remained bent together. Out of the corner of his eye, Shawn noticed Jack and Rachel looking away.

"Just wanted to remind you that I'm here too," Shawn said quietly.

"As if I could forget," said Cory, backing away but gripping Shawn's hand as they went to the hostess and were seated near the back of the restaurant. Shawn's hand remained in Cory's as they sat, ordered drinks and an appetizer, and looked at Jack and Rachel across the table.

"So, any news for us?" Jack asked pointedly.

"If you didn't notice the rings, then I'm not sure you deserved to know," said Cory in a teasing tone.

Rachel gasped and shrieked. "You're married, too?"

"Not married, engaged," Shawn corrected her. "We're planning on making it official by the end of the summer."

"That's great. Congratulations," she said. "I'd hug you again, but..."

"Let's not be excessive here," said Shawn, smiling at Rachel in spite of Jack's total lack of excitement. "And thanks. We're looking forward to it."

"No set wedding date yet?" Rachel asked.

"No," said Cory. "Like Shawn said, we'd like it to be by the end of August. But that depends on whether or not—" Cory looked at Shawn, as if for approval, and Shawn nodded. What could it hurt if Jack and Rachel knew a thing or two about his and Cory's life together? "Well, we're looking at houses around here."

"That's so wonderful." Rachel sounded sincere, and Shawn had to smile at how thrilled for them she appeared to be.

"Yeah. Wonderful," said Jack woodenly. "And were you planning on telling us anytime soon about any of that?"

Rachel went slightly pale. Cory gripped Shawn's hand tightly as Shawn said levelly, "Well, Jack, I would've been planning on it if I had known your address. Or which continent you were on."

"Look—" Jack's voice rose just before the waitress dropped off their drinks and took their orders. When the waitress was out of earshot, he continued, voice still a touch too loud, "it doesn't always have to be _my_ responsibility to let _you _know what I'm doing, Shawn."

Shawn laughed humorlessly. "When has that _ever _been your responsibility? You don't tell me anything. You never have. And I figured that meant I didn't owe this to you." Shawn sighed and looked at Rachel. "Rachel, I'm sorry if you suffered at all because of this. I don't mean to leave you out of the loop."

"No, Shawn, you're right." Rachel couldn't quite meet Shawn's eyes, so she looked at Cory instead. "It wasn't fair of us—of Jack—to never tell you where we were."

Jack looked stunned, Shawn tried not to look ecstatic, and Cory looked past Jack's shoulder at the waitress.

"Hey, who wants chicken sate?" he asked cheerily, taking one of his own as soon as the waitress set down the plate. Shawn took one, as did Rachel, while Jack gaped at his wife.

"You mean that?" he asked her. "You think I'm in the wrong here?"

"We both are." Rachel looked at Shawn. "I'm sorry, Shawn."

"It's OK, Rachel." Shawn reached a hand across the table to Rachel's. "Really, it is."

"I don't think it is," said Jack. Shawn took his hand away and re-laced his fingers with Cory's. He looked at his brother, trying not to roll his eyes.

"I don't think I have anything to be sorry for," Jack continued. "You've never paid any more attention to me than I have to you."

"Maybe that's true," said Shawn. He felt Cory squeeze his hand and squeezed back. "But we had an agreement, Jack. Maybe you don't remember, but you promised that if you made any, you know, life-altering decisions, you'd let me know before, I don't know, sending out a form letter or something like that."

Jack's cheeks reddened. "Look, you know I'm not the best at communicating. I thought that would be good enough for you."

"What, you treating me the same way you would a former teacher or a distant cousin? I know who gets those letters, Jack. I'm just another name on a list."

"You know that's not true."

"What evidence do I have that says it isn't?"

Jack opened his mouth and closed it without saying anything. Rachel put her hand on his arm, but he looked the other way.

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea, just showing up like this," said Rachel. "I'm sorry if we caught you off guard, Shawn."

"You did. But it's fine. How'd you find me, anyway?"

"Eric," she said. "Jack still talks to him."

"Eric never told me that," said Cory.

"Well, Cory, he probably didn't think you'd care," Jack said, his tone bordering on venomous.

"Hey," said Shawn, trying to keep his voice down. "You can treat me anyway you want. But don't drag Cory into how you feel about me. Cory's never done anything to you."

"He hasn't? How about take you away from me?"

"What?" Shawn looked at Cory, who appeared to be as confused as Shawn felt.

"You've always spent all your time with him," said Jack. "Even when you both had girlfriends. Come on, Shawn. You know that before you thought of him as ... what you do now, he was like a brother to you."

"You can't even say it, can you?" Shawn asked. "You can't even admit to yourself that your brother is marrying a man."

"You know I've never had a problem with that." Jack sighed, sounding weary. "You're changing the subject."

The waitress put down their plates. Cory and Rachel thanked her.

"Guys, can we not do this here?" Cory asked, lifting a forkful of lamb curry to his mouth. "Can't we just enjoy this delicious Thai food and savor the glorious feeling of being with family and friends again?"

"I'm with him," said Rachel. "Your issues could take years to hash out. And I don't think either Cory or I need to be here for that. Especially when there's all this pad Thai on the table."

"I know you'll say this is juvenile, Shawnie," said Cory. "But could you maybe call a truce? So Jack doesn't like that we're gay, but he doesn't want to say so, and you don't like admitting that you always valued me more than you valued Jack. So? Impasses happen. Just pretend to be buddies for the next 20 minutes."

Shawn shot Cory a look. Cory gave him one back, one Shawn read as _I agree with you, but please do this for my sake_. At least, he hoped that was what it meant. Shawn nodded.

"Jack, I'm sorry we'll never understand each other," Shawn said before taking a bite of peanut curry.

"Shawn, I'm sorry I sometimes give off the appearance of being a really shitty brother," said Jack, sipping his soda.

"Truce?" Shawn put out his hand.

"Truce." Jack shook it.

The tension never dissipated entirely, but Shawn acknowledged to himself and, later, to Cory that it was highly possible that would always be the case.

"I don't think he gets that he's in the wrong, even when literally everyone else is telling him he is," Shawn said to him. He was lying on the love seat with his head in Cory's lap, and Cory was running his fingers through Shawn's hair, something he'd gotten very good at since they'd started dating.

"I think you're right, obviously," said Cory.

"But you also think I value you more than I value Jack, right?"

"Well..."

"I do."

"Yeah, I know," Cory said. They laughed and Cory leaned down to kiss Shawn on the head. "Need any more time to vent? Or are we ready to order our second horribly unhealthy meal of the day and watch _The Karate Kid_?"

"_The Karate Kid_? Seriously, Cor? That's your pick?"

"Hey, I had to suffer through _Requiem for a Dream _last weekend. Not everyone can be as artsy and deep as you are."

"Speaking of artsy and deep, Jon has a poetry thing tomorrow night that I said we'd go to," said Shawn. Jon Dale was an agent at Colwyn and one of Shawn and Cory's closest friends in Boston.

"When are you going to read?" Cory asked.

"Someday when you're older," said Shawn. "Are you cool with going to that, though?"

"Definitely. Now, you order the pizza, I'll set up the movie, and within mere hours, you'll understand the magic that erupts when Pat Morita and Ralph Macchio join together."

"I'm sure I will." Shawn straightened up, kissed his fiancé, and reached for the phone.


	17. The Light

Hearing a knock on his office door, Shawn looked up from the computer.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked Leslie.

"Delivery for you at the desk," Leslie said with a grin. "I'm too bitter to deliver it myself."

"Are you serious?"

Leslie nodded.  
"Flowers again?"

"Look, I don't get it either, Shawn," she said. "I mean, I'm sure you're a great husband and all, but it's been four months. It's not going to be cute forever."

"To be fair to him, the flowers do die just about at the four week mark," said Shawn, standing up and walking to the front of the office with Leslie. "And then we've got fresh flowers again, and if he does anything that needs forgiving for a week or two, he's off the hook."

In truth, Cory did very little that needed forgiving. Being married wasn't radically different from dating or being engaged, and Shawn and Cory were, as Leslie put it, as revoltingly happy as they had been before.

It had been a great wedding, quiet and intimate with the Matthews family, Jack and Rachel, and a handful of friends. Shawn and Jack had more or less made amends in the months between that springtime lunch and Shawn and Cory's June wedding. Jack eventually conceded that maybe he wasn't great at keeping up with Shawn, and Shawn admitted that it was hard for him to remember how valuable he should consider Jack. No one stood up in the wedding, so there was no awkward question of whether or not Jack would be best man, and anyone who felt the need could tell a story or make a toast at the reception. Jack didn't, and that was fine by Shawn.

Now, it was October, and Shawn and Cory were in what they considered a better place than ever. They'd bought a house, a cozy little ranch with more than enough room for the two of them and the puppy Cory insisted they get after getting married, an excitable corgi named Puck. Cory, who was getting compensated by his company for working less hours and using the extra time to attend law classes at Boston College, mentioned adoption every now and then. Shawn tried not to say so out loud, but he didn't hate the idea—as long as they took their time.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you," Leslie said, smiling as they approached the desk. "He's here, too."

There before them stood Cory, grinning goofily, a bouquet of lilies and roses in hand. He put the flowers down as Shawn half-ran over to him for a hug and a quick kiss.

"You guys make me sick," said Leslie, shaking her head. "I'm guessing you're taking the afternoon off, then, Cory? And forcing Shawn to go with you?"

Shawn shrugged. "I don't need these hours, do I?"

"As long as you'll meet up with us tonight at the coffeehouse, I think you're off the hook," she said with a wink.

"We still make you sick, then?" asked Cory, interlacing his fingers with Shawn's. "I take it last week's date didn't go so good?"

"I think he was gay," said Leslie. "Guess I'm back to lusting after that one guy forever."

"Speaking of..." Shawn said as Jon, the literary agent and semi-published poet, entered the lobby.

"Thought I heard your voice, Cory," Jon said, grinning. "You here to take Shawn away for the afternoon?"

"If that's alright with you, big important guy," said Cory, smiling back.

"You tied up the loose ends with Forster's new contract, right?" Jon asked Shawn.

"Yeah," said Shawn. "All that's left to do is turn off my computer and clear my mind till Monday morning."

"I'm sure this guy'll help," Jon said.

"I'll do my best," said Cory. "8:30 tonight?"

"See you then," Jon said. "You too, Leslie?"

Leslie's face lit up as Shawn took his flowers and went to the car with Cory.

"I've got some Thai food and the _Scream _trilogy waiting at the house," said Cory.

"You are, almost without question, the perfect man," Shawn said, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

Cory opened Shawn's door and started the car. He scoffed. "Almost?"

"Well, you've taken to snoring more than you used to."

"That's gotta be at least a little bit endearing."

"You never wake up when Puck's barking."

"A minor infraction."

"You hate washing pots and pans."

"I wouldn't if we had an industrial strength washing machine!"

"You'd be perfectly content to have Kraft macaroni and cheese every night, and you've made that abundantly clear."

"Well, yeah. It's halfway to gourmet."

"And I wouldn't change any of that, because I'm in love with all of it."

Cory reached the traffic light immediately before their apartment building, slowed to a stop, looked over, and smiled so genuinely at Shawn that Shawn was tempted to risk their safety just to kiss his husband.

"I could never put it as well as you do, Shawnie," he said.

"You don't have to."

It was a simple afternoon, filled with lovemaking and horror movies and grousing over the fact that they had to leave the house. Of course, they would eventually, but it was fun to complain. Griffin and Blake were coming for a visit that weekend, and they arrived half an hour before Open Mic Night, when Jon read his latest poems and Leslie swooned and Eric Tate the assistant publicist and Beth Walker the executive assistant danced around each other, playing a game of commitment chicken.

It was about 15 minutes till close when Shawn stood and walked to the stage. He'd shared poetry with Cory before, but he'd never shared it with a group of people that weren't sitting in classroom desks at Penn State. Cory looked at him curiously, Griffin and Blake smiled encouragingly, and Jon gave him a thumbs up as he stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat.

"If you look in the corner of my desk

in the house that we call home,

you'll see a light,

faintly flickering as I write and think and dream of you.

And it may sound sappy,

and it may be saccharine,

but it's been burning for longer than I can say.

There's nothing like that candle.

It never dies, never fades.

We're not a fleeting illumination or a slow burn.

We're more like forever.

And I assure you,

we're never going to change."

Shawn sat back down. Cory took both his hands under the table and squeezed.

"I—" he started.

Shawn shook his head and smiled. "I already know."


	18. Pop Culture Acknowledgments

Many thanks to the following bits and pieces of entertainment and art, both high and low:

_M*A*S*H_

The first of two in jokes appears in chapter three. Shawn and Cory are watching an episode of _Law and Order: Criminal Intent_. My sincere hope is that the episode they were watching was the one in which Rider Strong guest stars as a Muslim extremist.

_A Midsummer Night's Dream_

_Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country_

_Star Trek: First Contact_

_Star Trek: The Next Generation:_ "All Good Things..."

Second in joke comes up in chapter five, when Griffin and Shawn get together to watch the NBC comedy block. Although chronologically, he wouldn't be watching himself, Adam Scott, who portrayed Griffin on the series, eventually became part of the block, joining the cast of _Parks and Recreation_ at the end of its second season. (Adam Scott, by the way, is absolutely wonderful on _Party Down_. Watch it. Now. It's on Netflix instant streaming, so you have no excuse.)

_Revelations of Divine Love by Julian of Norwich_

_The X-Files_: primarily "Leonard Betts" and "Milagro"

_Before Sunrise_

_The Spy Who Loved Me_

The Harry Potter series

_An American Tail_

There are also fleeting mentions of _Sir Gawain and the Green Knight_, Milton, Shakespeare, and _Midnight's Children_.


End file.
